The Languorous Year
by ciaofay
Summary: A sequel to Surviving Claudia! Find it on my profile. Sherlock has three problems in his life. The first- Claudia living almost four hours away from him. The second- a pair of obsessive stalkers watching his every move. And finally- John has found a girlfriend. Sherlock must learn the heart-ache that is love. A story of romance, imminent danger and the sound of wedding bells...
1. The Letter Drawer

**Hello again, lovelies. I told you it'd be very soon that the sequel was published! **

**If you're new here, I advise you first read 'Surviving Claudia' because obviously, this is a sequel and so reading that first would be better...**

**Hope you enjoy..**

She stood outside 221B Baker Street with an apprehensive look on her face and a camera phone in her hand. Next to her was her confidante, her ally, her only friend in a world of idiots.

"I haven't seen him lately." The girl told her confidante. He didn't reply, he simply raised his eyebrows.

"Stop looking so much." He finally said. "He's a top class detective, he'll know something's up." He reminded her. She averted her eyes from their trained position of the living room window.

"I haven't seen the doctor either." She then told him, looking at her nails critically before shoving her hands in her pockets, putting her phone away.

"Maybe they're working on a case." The man finally replied, adjusting his position as he considered himself to be too obvious.

"Look, we'll just stand there. They can't see us but we can see them." The girl snapped, pulling on the mans sleeve and causing them to be stood to the side of the house, leaning on a wall as they casually acted like they were supposed to be there.

"Why can't you become obsessed with normal people? People who are easy?" The man demanded, getting his professional looking camera from his bag and searching through the dozens of photo's of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson that they'd acquired recently.

"Because there's only one Sherlock Holmes, and he's spectacular." The girl glared through her eyelashes. The man shrugged. Sometimes he was sick of being considered as a slave by her. She was a control freak. Anything she felt that she should have, she wanted. Anything that she knew she could never have, she wanted. And the new thing that she normally couldn't have but desperately wanted was Sherlock Holmes, because, in her own words, he's spectacular.

Every day Claudia Watson had written Sherlock a letter, and then stuffed it into the bottom of her sock drawer where nobody could read it. She had three months worth of ready to send letters, all describing the mundane days she'd had back at university and how she felt. How she would always feel and how she would never feel again. She just rambled really, as she did when she lived at Baker Street. She'd usually end her day by talking a load of nonsense, and he'd pretend to listen- occasionally nodding his head or 'mmm'ing. And she missed that, because she couldn't do it with any of her other friends. She wouldn't even do that to John, her own brother, because eventually, he'd tell her to shut up. And sometimes, she just needed to rant and rave about her day, and Sherlock seemed to be the only person who'd listen.

She signed the letter with her flourishing signature, and stuffed it into a cream envelope. She scrawled his name on the scratchy paper and then stuffed it into her drawer. The ratio of letter to sock in that drawer was out of proportion, and instead of a sock drawer, it should instead be entitled- The Letter Drawer.

She missed him- she wasn't afraid to admit that. They'd texted each other loads at first, and recently... Not so much. Neither of them had used their travel passes that she'd bought. Only John had used it, two times, because he missed his sister.

She also missed John. His sarcasm, his quick wit and his helpless bickering with Sherlock always made her day bright, and all she had left was annoying arguments with house mates and people eating the food she'd bought especially for herself. With Sherlock, she didn't have that problem because he just didn't eat.

Feeling homesick, she got her phone out and decided to text Sherlock. She tapped her quick message and sent it, immediately feeling less stressed as she did so.

And then she had to tackle that bloody huge essay question that had been set the same day and was expected in the next day. 5000 words and she had limited time to do it in. She cracked her head, and her neck and began typing furiously of the economic uprise of Germany in the 1930's.

Sherlock was running down Harley Street, desperately trying to keep up with the thief in front of him. The awful man running away had stolen a rather important document from Mycroft when he was commuting, and Mycroft had been so busy that he simply hadn't noticed.

Sherlock knew it was a lie.

Mycroft had employed the running thief simply to occupy Sherlock. He'd been distracted lately, thinking mostly of a brunette girl who had a fondness for short dresses, 1960's music and the consulting detective himself. This way a way for Mycroft to help him. Give him a challenge.

Sherlock knew that John, Mycroft and Mrs Hudson were worried about him. Hell, even Lestrade and Donovan worried about him. Anderson... Not so much.

So as he ran after the actor, he smiled when his phone buzzed in his coat pocket. He'd leave it until after the chase, when he'd caught the actor, taken back the fake 'important' document and handed it to Mycroft, who'd then give him a rather large sum of money for his troubles.

He took the final corner of Harley Street by force, his feet pounding on the pavement as he sprinted the final couple of yards. He grabbed hold of the actor and took the document from his hands.

"Thanks for the chase." He smiled fakely, crumpling the document up into a ball and throwing it in the bin.

"He warned me you'd do that." The actor called after him, smirking. "How did you know I wasn't real?" He asked. Sherlock stopped and turned around, his coat twirling around him like a cape.

"Because Mycroft's documents are more important to him than his life. He'd rather die than let someone steal them on a commute. Besides, he has about ten cars each with matching chauffers. Mycroft doesn't commute. He simply sits." Sherlock explained. He then turned back around and walked away, his hand pulling his phone out as he checked his texts. _Claudia._

_'A man has been found dead covered in cornflakes and I know who did it. -CW'_

Another of her incredibly unfunny jokes. He pretended to play along.

_'Oh? -SH'_

_'A cereal killer. -CW'_

Despite the awful joke she'd told, he couldn't help but smile. He dialled her phone number as he slowly weaved through the streets of the capital back to Baker Street.

"_Hello." _She said brightly.

"So, pray tell me more of this elusive cereal killer." Sherlock asked, smirking. She laughed down the other end of the phone.

"_I was really bored in my lecture this morning. Took me about an hour to make it up." _She admitted. He heard typing in the background.

"What are you writing?" He asked, opening the front door and walking inside, slamming it shut behind him and collapsing on the couch. John looked up from his laptop and smiled. Sherlock was on the phone to Claudia. He'd be in a good mood, then for the rest of the night. God, he might even eat.

"_Got a 5000 word essay due in tomorrow. It's fascinating stuff." _She lied, taking a step back from her laptop and pacing her bedroom. _"How have you been?" _She asked. It'd been about a week and a half since they last heard the others voice.

"Bored. No cases. Mycroft has resorted to hiring actors to pretend to be criminals to occupy my time." He explained, and John shook his head.

"_That sounds fun. The highlight of my week was when Will got incredibly drunk and fell from the top step to the bottom. That's where my life is right now." _She complained. In other words, her life was dull.

"I was err... I was thinking of coming to see you." He said quietly, ignoring the smirk that John sent him and brushing it off as immature.

"_Do!"_ Claudia exclaimed happily, _"I can show you around the wonders of Manchester."_ She grinned, knowing that although there were certain parts of Manchester that she absolutely adored, London would always be a bigger version of it.

"Okay. Maybe I will." He said awkwardly. "Erm.."

"_Sherlock, you can stay for as long as you want." _Claudia saying, simply knowing that's what he wanted to ask.

"Good. Yes. Well, I have to go because John's doing something boring that I have to watch. I'll talk to you later." He said, and before she could reply, he'd hung up. That was too embarrassing. And all he'd done was ask if he could stop with her for a few days.

"Thanks for the invite." John said sarcastically, typing away at his laptop. Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat up, glaring at his flat mate.

"You've been there twice." He retorted.

"Yep. And I invited you each time." John replied, before smirking. "Oh, I get it. You're gonna try it on with her. Just don't tell me the details and that'll be fine." John said, only causing Sherlock to storm off like a little girl and slam his bedroom door behind him.

"I wonder who he was on the phone to. He was smiling. I've never seen him smile like that before." The woman said to her partner, who nodded in agreement.

"A girl, probably." He replied, knowing full well that it would aggravate the demanding woman stood next to him.

"If it was a girl, I'll find her, and I'll warn her to stay away. She won't know what hit her."

"He didn't notice us." The man changed the topic, smiling proudly at the woman.

"For an intelligent man, he can be dense at times." She agreed, smiling brightly. "We just have to be patient for two weeks. And then I'll be working with him. On his side. And then we can put our little plan into action." She smirked. "But right now, I think it's time to go." She nodded, tugging on her leather jacket and walking away. The man watched her and then followed.

He checked his watch. They'd been stood there for nearly eight hours. She was getting worse, and her stalking was going to be the end of her, he just knew it.

Sherlock walked out of his flat the following day with a small bag hooked over his shoulder and nothing more. As he left, he noticed two figures lurking in the shadows. He brushed it off as nothing of importance and hailed a cab. He got inside and ordered it to take him to the train station.

As the cab drove past his flat, he noticed the same two figures watching him. He frowned. He'd have to check that out when he got back home.

As he left the cab and got on his train, he took John's laptop that he'd stolen from his bag and switched it on. Ah, he'd put a password on it. Sherlock smirked. As if that would stop him from abusing his rights as a flat mate and stealing his laptop.

Meanwhile, Claudia had already woken up, completely cleaned and tidied her bedroom, changed her bedding, cleaned the bathroom, and the kitchen and the living room. She didn't know why. She wasn't looking to impress Sherlock or anything. Besides, he wasn't impressed by cleanliness. If he lived on his own he wouldn't exactly clean himself.

She figured it was more to control her nerves and excitement.

"Claudia, you do realise it's about three and a half hours from London to Manchester." Poppy said as she walked into the living room and saw Claudia dusting the TV like her life depended on it.

"Yeah. So?" She asked.

"So..." Poppy snatched the polish and duster from Claudia's grasp and hid them behind her back. "It's nine in the morning. You've got another three and a half hours. Instead of cleaning the house, go and clean _yourself._ Make yourself beautiful!" Poppy exclaimed, grinning right in Claudia's face.

Claudia sighed dramatically before trudging her way upstairs to her bedroom.

_Approximately three and a half hours later_

When Sherlock got off the train at Victoria station, he had to weave his way through the throngs of pretentiously dressed students, business men and tourists alike. He noticed the street art on the pavements, the Banksy-esque graffiti on the walls and the long towering thrift shops. The glass gallery at the triangle, and the hoards of young adults making their way to the Northern Quarter. He'd heard of it, of course, but old dusty record shops had nothing to do with him anymore, not now that he'd bought Claudia's vinyl for her.

He walked past a tall and slim business man, wearing shades and carrying a briefcase. He had no wedding ring on but a tan line on his left finger that indicated he often wore his wedding ring. Ergo, he was on his way to have an affair.

Sherlock smiled and shifted his bag so it fit more comfortably on his shoulder. The business man seemed to recognise Sherlock and when the detective walked past him, the man turned to watch him leave. Hadn't he been in the papers?

Sherlock walked away from the centre of the city made his way to the shared house that Claudia lived in, her having texted him her address previously in the day.

It took him about ten minutes to walk there. As he reached the front door, he took a deep breath and knocked on the door knocker.

No sooner had he knocked on the door had it opened and he'd been bundled into someone's arms and squeezed tightly. Vanilla perfume, short dress, brunette hair. Ah, it was Claudia. He didn't make to hug her back, but Claudia hadn't been expecting him to. She was content just hugging him.

She finally stepped back and pulled him into the house, slamming the door and practically running with him.

"Quick." She hissed, sneaking past what looked to be the living room, where five young adults sat talking. She moved quickly past the door and led him up the stairs, where she pushed him into her bedroom and shut the door. She then seemed to relax.

"You don't want to meet them yet." She promised him. "They'd ambush you." She said. As soon as she'd calmed down, they seemed to finally realise that they were in each others company after three months.

Claudia grinned at him and sat on the bed next to where she'd pushed him. He looked around her room to see what he could deduce from the three months she'd been on her own.

A bright room, she'd chosen it especially for that purpose. Her record player was on its own shelf, and the record in it was a sombre record. She'd been sad. The room was tidy but had just been cleaned, so before it had been messy. She'd been busy, too busy to keep a hold on the tidiness of her room. She had a large pen stain on the outside of her left hand, and although she'd tried to scrub it off, it was still there, faded and shiny and black. She'd been writing a lot, so much that as she was left handed, the ink had smudged on her hand and wouldn't leave due to the sheer amount of it. She'd not just been busy, she'd been really busy. Too busy to miss him?

"I've missed you." She admitted as these thoughts were flashing through his mind. He looked at her.

"I suppose I've missed you too." He replied.

"Oh, you suppose, do you?" She teased, smirking and standing up. "So what do you want to do today? Tour of Manchester, or stay in bed?" She asked, cocking her head and smirking when he looked flustered at her second suggestion.

"I've heard the city is rather beautiful this time of yea-" He was cut off mid-floundering-speech as she kissed him, and he supposed he had no choice but to kiss her back.

Surviving Claudia- he'd almost managed it.

**It's good to be back, even though I've been gone for a day! **

**Hope you liked.**

**Oh, and can you tell that I love Manchester? And, just in case you were wondering, the Northern Quarter is like almost a district in Manchester where all the cool shops are- like dusty old record shops and skater shops and vintage shops and ooooh. I love it.**

**-Fay xox**

**PS- I thought the only possible title for this fiction could be 'The Languorous Year' **

**Languorous meaning lacking spirit or liveliness. :-)**


	2. Funeral

"Not so fond of Manchester myself." The accomplice told his partner, as they weaved through the crowds of people. His camera was slung over one shoulder and he had a hand on his bosses back, so as not to lose her.

"I don't care. What I care about is the fact he's gone to see some girl." The woman snarled as they walked back to the house Sherlock Holmes had entered the previous day.

"Patience. He doesn't even know you exist yet. Don't get jealous." The man ordered, watching as her eyes widened as they came into view of the large shared house.

"Whoever that girl is, she's going to have to give Sherlock Holmes up, or I'll force her to." The woman insisted.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" The man demanded.

"That's nothing to do with you." The woman said quietly.

When Claudia woke up the following morning, she found the other half of her bed cold and empty. Sherlock had been gone from it for a long time. She frowned and sat up, pushing her hair out of her eyes and looking for a clue as to where he could be. She listened to the sound of talking and tuned her ears in.

"Claudia didn't tell me you were this clever." Josie was laughing downstairs in the living room. Claudia quickly got dressed, knowing full well that Josie was trying to flirt with Sherlock. So, she would teach her a lesson. Instead of dressing in her normal bed clothes, she slid Sherlock's purple shirt on and buttoned it up, and left the room.

She rushed downstairs and peeped her head into the living room.

"Morning, Josie." Claudia forced a smile. "Coffee?" She asked, turning her attention to Sherlock. He nodded up at her, with a small smile.

She went into the kitchen and made his coffee exactly how he liked it, and handed it to him. She then sat next to him on the couch.

"So, what've you been talking about?" Claudia asked, watching as Josie blushed slightly at being caught out with the flirting.

"She asked me about the Caroline Calder case." Sherlock explained.

"I bet she was." Claudia muttered.

"What was that?" Josie asked, eyeing up Claudia's shirt with a distasteful eye.

"Nothing." Claudia grinned. She stood up and left the room, having heard her phone go off in the kitchen where she'd left it.

"So, have you any plans today? I mean, I know Claudia's in a lecture at one, so if you wanted, I could show you around?" Josie asked suggestively, twirling her blonde hair around her index finger. Sherlock, amused, looked up and observed Josie.

"Judging by your body language and your flushed cheeks, you mean to show me around as in a _date_, not in a friendly way. My response to that is, no. Secondly, by the way you have been so obviously flirtatious with me, even in front of Claudia, suggests that you don't like her, and so don't care if you offend her. Why would a friend do that? Maybe you're jealous of her academic ability- she's obviously very good at what she wants to do. Maybe you're jealous of the fact that she's been involved in adventure and crime scenes. But most likely, you're jealous of the fact that she just came downstairs wearing one of my shirts. Jenny, give up." He snarled, and as he sipped his coffee, he sat back in his seat and stared at the crappy sitcom on TV.

"My name's not Jenny." Josie said, about to start crying as she ran from the room and upstairs. Claudia passed her as she was walking back into the living room and frowned.

"What did you say to her?" Claudia asked suspiciously.

"That she's jealous of you and to stop flirting with me. It's outrageous." Sherlock complained, and Claudia's suspicious frown turned into a grin. She wrapped an arm around his neck and hugged his head to her chest before ruffling his unruly curls and kissing his cheek.

"Well done." She congratulated him, and he pushed her off him impatiently, smiling at her apparent happiness that he'd offended her so called friend.

"Do you have to go to your lecture?" Sherlock grumbled.

"Kind of, yeah. It's only a couple of hours, and then I'll take us for a meal." Claudia smiled.

"How about you skip the lecture, and I'll take us for a meal?" Sherlock asked. "If you say no, I'll just go and ask Jenny." Sherlock raised an eyebrow, remaining straight faced somehow.

"Josie." Claudia corrected, frowning as Will suddenly ran into the room, breathless with eyes wide.

"You're a detective, hm?" He asked Sherlock, who looked bizarrely up at the boy.

"What's happened?" Claudia asked, panicking somewhat.

"There's two people outside taking pictures of the house. I've been watching them. They've been there for about an hour, now." Will rambled, pointing outside. Sherlock immediately ran to the window and peered outside, to find that the boy was right. A man and a woman, one with a professional camera, the other with a camera phone.

"Claudia, come on!" Sherlock exclaimed, rushing to the door.

"I can't! I'm not dressed!" Claudia shrieked after him.

"You look perfect to me, come on!" Sherlock stressed, opening the door and thundering down the road after the now running stalkers. Claudia soon followed after slipping on Poppy's shoes that had been left by the door. Will decided he wanted to be in on the action and took off sprinting after the curly haired detective too.

"Are they not just some of Mycroft's hired actors?!" Claudia called as she legged it after him.

"That's what I'm trying to find out!" Sherlock roared, abruptly turning a corner and causing Will and Claudia to run straight past him. They had to run back and follow him round the corner.

They ran straight into the centre of town, and they all looked like a bizarre group of people. The two stalkers sprinting away manically, with Sherlock following in a white t-shirt and some shorts and nothing more. Behind him was Claudia, wearing a shirt that only just covered her up and some huge Dr Martens boots. And running with her was Will, who was the least dressed of them all, wearing just his boxers.

They watched as the criminals ran into a department store and immediately got in a lift, pressing the shut doors button before Sherlock could even reach them.

"Fuck." He swore softly, before seeing the flight of stairs to the right and immediately taking off up them. He stopped at every floor, always beating the lift, to see which floor they were getting off at. Finally, when he reached the last floor, the doors opened and the duo ran out, not expecting to see Sherlock there. But he was waiting for them, slightly out of breath and exposed.

They saw him and continued to run, successfully managing to get through into one of the busiest departments in the store, and consequently, causing Sherlock to lose them. He was finally met by Claudia and Will, both red in the face and out of breath.

"Lost them." Sherlock told them, walking straight for the door. Claudia ran up to him and grabbed his arm, causing him to slow down.

"Well who are they?" She asked.

"Dressed all in black, professional photography equipment. I'm assuming they're not the usual kind of paparazzi." Sherlock quipped.

"Well, what type are they?" Will asked.

"The stalking kind." Sherlock said with raised eyebrows. "Come on, we're going for a meal." He told both Claudia and Will, Will looking ecstatic to be in the company of the world famous detective. And asked out for a meal by him. He was in heaven.

"Ha, no." Claudia folded her arms and stared at him. "We're not dressed." She reminded him, and Sherlock smirked, obvious crude thoughts going through his head.

When they returned home, Claudia let Sherlock get ready first, sitting downstairs with Will as they discussed what had just happened. A phone ringing interrupted their discussion, and Claudia realised that it was Sherlock's phone. She retrieved it from his coat pocket and saw that it was Mycroft. She answered on behalf of Sherlock.

"Hello Mycroft." She said, looking at Will who was watching her. From the half sided conversation he was listening to, it didn't sound too good. "Oh, my God... No, he's upstairs... Shit." She hissed into the phone, sitting on the arm of the couch and running a hand through her hair. "Thanks Mycroft, I'll tell him now. And I'm.. I'm sorry for your loss." She said before hanging up.

"What's up pumpkin?" Will asked, putting an arm around his friend.

"Sherlock's Uncle died two days ago of a heart attack, and his funeral's in couple of days." Claudia explained

"Go and tell him." Will told her, squeezing her hand to give her strength. "It'll be best coming from you. By the way he looks at you, he obviously adores you." He laughed, and Claudia swatted him with her hand.

She then walked slowly up the stairs, not sure how to tell him. Apparently, he was the only good Uncle they had. Uncle Thomas- and he was the man who originally got Sherlock interested in being a detective.

She slowly opened her bedroom door, and looked at the ground as she said it.

"Sherlock... Oh, Sherlock." She said, sitting next to him where he was on her bed and putting an arm around his shoulder. "Mycroft rang, so I answered your phone for you. I'm sorry, but your Uncle Thomas has died." She said softly, watching as he seemed to deflate a little. His steely eyes flitted around the room as he considered what she'd told him.

"When? And what of?" He asked.

"Two days ago, of a heart attack." Claudia said.

"His own fault. We told him to stop the excessive drinking." Sherlock hissed. Claudia didn't know what to say to that.

"It's okay to be upset, Sherlock." She assured him. "Mycroft said you had a lot of respect for him." She added. Sherlock nodded.

"I did." He confirmed. "But it's nature. We don't live forever, Claude." He murmured.

The two got off the train back in London, where Mycroft met them in his Jaguar. The two brothers looked at each other in a similar manner. They were affected by Thomas' death but not necessarily grieving.

"My condolences, brother." Mycroft patted him on the back as they got in his car.

"Yes. And to you." Sherlock replied, budging up so that Claudia could get in too. In Sherlock's eyes, she was being careful around him. She was worried that he'd suddenly break down. But it wasn't going to happen. He was upset, yes, but he'd been expecting it. They all had. And that's why he wasn't dreading the funeral. It would be more upsetting to see Thomas' wife, children and grandchildren than to say goodbye to the man himself.

When the car pulled up at Baker Street, Mycroft turned around in his seat.

"The funeral's at one, Sherlock. I'll pick you up in two hours, sharp." Mycroft warned, pointing at him. Sherlock nodded.

"See you then." He smiled awkwardly as both he and Claudia got out.

"Bye Mycroft." Claudia smiled sadly, shutting the door behind her and then walking in to the familiar flat that she'd really been missing.

"Claudia." John smiled when the girl walked in, armed with a small suitcase. The siblings hugged. "How is he?" He whispered.

"Taking it rather well. I was expecting him to at least show some emotion, but he hasn't." Claudia whispered back, and they both shut up when Sherlock walked in.

"It's okay. You can continue talking about me." Sherlock waved them on with his hand.

"Are you okay, mate?" John asked worriedly.

"Yes, John." Sherlock snapped. He was sick of the sympathy texts he was getting, and the endless calls from family members asking him if he knew the dreadful news.

"We've two hours and then Mycroft's picking us up." Claudia told John, who nodded and went into the kitchen, intent on making them all a nice cup of tea.

"Isn't this Carla's jacket. Did she leave it when she helped me move?" Claudia called, picking up the leather jacket draped over the couch. Sherlock had to cover his smirk with his hand.

"What?" John called back.

"This jacket. It's Carla's. You could've called her and told her, John." Claudia chided.

"Ha, yeah." John called back nervously. Claudia sighed and turned to Sherlock.

"He's been sleeping with her, hasn't he?" She asked. Sherlock nodded. "John Watson, you dirty dog." She muttered under her breath.

An hour later, Claudia went to get ready. She walked the familiar route into Sherlock's bedroom and put on the black dress she'd brought. She hardly put any makeup on, and she tied her hair up into a modest bun. She paired it with black tights and black shoes with red cotton bows on them.

Knowing that there was no way Sherlock would willingly wear a nice black suit, she went into his wardrobe and took one out for him. Her eyebrows raised when she saw the tag. Armani.

She laid it out for him on his bed.

She then went into the living room. "I put a suit on your bed. Wear it." She ordered, pointing at him. He nodded and traipsed into the bathroom.

Half an hour later and they were all dressed modestly in black. Claudia was sorting Sherlock's cuff links out for him when John moved from the window.

"He's here." He said sombrely. The three of them all nodded at each other and left, Claudia locking up for them- still having her key.

They climbed into the car and Mycroft signalled for the driver to take them to the church. When they stepped from the car, they saw the hearse begin to arrive up to the beautiful grounds of the sacred and elusive church that only the very elite of people went to. Lots of rich and professional people were gathered, most of whom were in the government.

Claudia watched as the hearse pulled up and the congregation outside the lovely church moved so that the family of Thomas could carry his coffin in.

"You and Mycroft should be there." Claudia whispered to Sherlock. As soon as she said that, a woman called over to the Holmes' boys.

"Mycroft, Sherlock! You're supposed to be here." She said, ushering them to the coffin where they helped with the weight. As they walked into the church, Sherlock kept his eyes on Claudia.

Her heart panged as she watched the brothers morosely walk into the empty church. Everyone began crowding in then, sitting in the pews and watching what happened next.

Sherlock located where the Watson siblings were sat and took his seat next to Claudia. Mycroft joined them, wanting to sit with his brother for this one.

He turned to whisper something to his younger brother, but found him otherwise entranced by something else. He was holding Claudia's hand, and Mycroft really didn't want to disturb their little moment.

After the service and the burial came the wake. John was talking to a few doctors at the side of the large hall they were stood in, while Sherlock was talking to his mother. Claudia had always assumed that he and Mycroft simply didn't have a mother, by the way they talked about her. But there she was, plain as day, with the same curly dark hair as Sherlock and the same piercing eyes as Mycroft.

Claudia didn't want to get caught up in the awkward 'meeting of the mother' so she contented herself with talking to one of Thomas' grandchildren, Rose, who had previously been crying. Rose was probably around four years old.

The two girls were sat on the floor in the corner of the room, and Rose was telling Claudia of why she missed her Granddad.

"He always let me play a hairdresser on him." Rose told Claudia.

"Would it make you feel better to play a hairdresser now?" She asked gently. Rose nodded. Claudia grinned and took her hair out of her bun, and turned around, allowing Rose to play with it and tug on it and mess it up. Rose eventually began laughing as Claudia handed her a load of hair pins, and the young girl began twisting her hair up and pinning it in odd directions. Claudia also started laughing, the young childs laughter being contagious.

"Sherlock, who is that girl?" Violet Holmes asked her son. Sherlock turned to see what his mother was talking about, to find Claudia and Rose Holmes giggling on the floor. He smiled when he saw Claudia try not to yell out in pain as Rose tugged on her hair. Claudia looked up and their eyes met, and she grinned at him but made no attempt to move. Probably because if she did, Rose would have her hair out with the way she was holding it.

"Sherlock?" Violet asked, when her son didn't reply. Sherlock cleared his throat.

"Mother, that's Sherlock's girlfriend." Mycroft filled in for his brother, nudging him in the hips as he walked past, smirking as he did so.

"Is she?" Violet asked, raising an eyebrow. "What's she called?" She asked.

"Claudia." Sherlock said, and Violet noted the sense of pride in his voice when he said her name. Violet smiled at her son, sipping from her champagne she was holding. He was finally grown up.

She watched as he picked up two glasses of champagne from a nearby tray and took them to Claudia and his second cousin.

"Claude." He said, handing her the drink. Claudia smiled and took it from him.

"Rose is being a hairdresser." She said, and Rose grinned at the cousin she'd only met a couple of times but strongly remembered him. He was the one who read her boring stories, about Science.

"I can see that." Sherlock smirked, bending down to join them both.

"Oh, look at him." Violet breathed as she stood next to her other son and watched as Sherlock laughed at something Claudia said. What with Rose there, they looked like parents.

"I wouldn't be expecting grandchildren just yet. You haven't seem them when they're alone. They aggravate each other to no end." Mycroft sipped his champagne.

"But have you ever seen him look at someone like that before?" Violet asked, her eyes clearly showing how proud she was. No, he hadn't.

**I wasn't sure if Sherlock and Mycroft still had their parents or not, but I thought it would be nice if they had a mother who was finally able to see her son fall in love. I may write in a father too, I think that might be nice.**

**Thank you so much for all your wonderful comments and support, I was surprised with how much you seemed to love the last chapter. And I just realised how much actually happens in this chapter, haha. Oh well, I find it endearing.**

**Tell me what you think! -Fay xox**

**PS- I wish Mycroft had kids, how cute would an Uncle Sherlock be?!**


	3. The Devil Wears Westwood

Sherlock raised his champagne glass to Claudia, who still had Rose pulling on her hair. Claudia winced and raised her glass too, not sure what or who he was toasting.

"Thomas Holmes." He said, and Claudia smiled.

"Thomas Holmes." She agreed.

A few people that had been listening to the two of them also smiled and raised their glasses.

"Thomas Holmes." About ten people all said. And once those ten people had said it, the whole room's attention turned to Claudia and Sherlock.

"Thomas Holmes!" They all smiled, sipping from their champagne glasses.

Watching the new couple gave the room hope. Yes, Thomas had died, but death wasn't always a sad or a bad thing. There is always hope.

Claudia flushed, not liking the attention being poured on her. She stood up and she and Sherlock awkwardly walked over to John, who seemed in shock. If he'd been denying their relationship before, there was no way he could after observing that. Sherlock had actually thought to give her a glass of champagne. Without being asked. And that was a bloody miracle in itself, according to John.

The night was drawing in, and Claudia's train to Manchester was at one in the morning. She had two hours to kill, and nothing to do in that time. It had been an odd day, full of sadness but at the same time, happiness. She'd met Sherlock's mother and father, Violet and Sebastian, both steely, intelligent people who were remarkably pleased with their son. She'd also met some of Sherlock's cousins and other relatives that he'd never mentioned.

She'd always assumed that he was an orphan, that the only family he had was Mycroft. She supposed it was because he often talked about his lonely upbringing, or the fact that before John, he'd been alone. But with a family this big, how could one be alone?

"Simple. I've always kept myself to myself, distanced myself from people. Life's just easier that way." Sherlock explained as Claudia asked him about that very question she'd been pondering all day.

They were outside, strolling around the church, Sherlock not wanting to say goodbyes to his family as he just found it an awkward affair. And so he'd pulled Claudia outside, and effectively, the two of them were running away.

"That must've been lonely." Claudia told him, her skin raised as she felt the cold. Luckily, Sherlock, being the gentleman he so rarely was, took his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. "Thanks." She told him, gripping it tightly.

"Not really. If I wanted to talk to someone, I'd talk to Mycroft. As much as I despise that man, we've always had a sort of alliance." Sherlock smirked.

"Go on, tell me about your uncle." Claudia told him, smiling at the far-away look in Sherlock's eyes.

"Nothing to say. We always thought he was a very happy man. From an early age, he was the one who urged both me and my brother to pursue what we really wanted. But he wasn't happy, and he ended up drinking himself into his grave." Sherlock rambled. Claudia's smile fell.

"Are you upset?" She asked him gently, watching his reaction very closely. He'd been trying to convince her all day that he was fine, but she didn't believe him.

"A little." He finally admitted, shrugging lightly. "I've handled death a lot though, Claude." He reminded her.

"I know." She said, her hand suddenly darting out and grabbing his hand. "You know you're the talk of the evening." She informed him, her smile lighting up again.

"I think Thomas is the talk of the evening." He corrected, unsure as to where she was going.

"No. I've heard everyone. They're trying to take their mind of Thomas by focussing on something else, and that's been you." She nodded. He frowned, completely not following. "I think everyone thought you a lost cause and you'd never find someo-." She said, abruptly stepping over a tree root in the ground and stumbling over. Sherlock tensed his arm and stopped her from falling, and consequently she began laughing at herself.

He was about to tell her that she was an idiot, but she already knew that. He ended up laughing with her too.

"So, we've got two hours. I think you've avoided saying your goodbyes, what do you want to do?" Claudia asked, holding both of his hands as they stood against the church wall and looking up at him.

"Let's just go home." He told her. Claudia smiled at the fact that he still considered 221B Baker Street to be her home, when actually, her home was a couple of hundred miles north of Baker Street.

"Shouldn't we wait for John?" Claudia asked, wondering what her brother had been doing all day, considering the fact that she'd only seen him a couple of times. Sherlock sighed but nodded, and they walked back into the lit up church, lit up so that drunken older people could see the door handle of the cab they were climbing into.

Inside the church stood Sherlock's parents, Mycroft Holmes, a few of Thomas' brothers and sisters and John. John glared at his sister for leaving him alone with strangers.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" He hissed.

"Walking." She shrugged, letting go off Sherlock and standing with her brother while Sherlock said his goodbyes and rang a cab.

"Claudia, dear, I'd like to say thank you for doing whatever you did to my son. Normally, he wouldn't have even come to this funeral today. And he's never looked better. I know it must be hard to put up with him, but I hope he treats you like the gentleman we raised." Violet rambled, grabbing Claudia's arms. John sighed. No one had thanked him, and he'd had to put up with Sherlock for a lot longer than Claudia had.

"That's no problem. I had no idea." Claudia said, looking somewhat startled. She glanced over at Sherlock, whose father was muttering something in his ear. When Sherlock leaned back and nodded, he turned to look at Claudia. When he caught her looking, he smiled his goodbye to his father and walked over.

"Let's go." He said. Claudia nodded. Violet smiled a goodbye to the girl, knowing that she'd already made her uncomfortable.

"Lovely meeting you." Sebastian Holmes grinned at first to Claudia, who he'd also thanked. He then said it to John, with whom he'd been talking to for the majority of the evening.

"You too." The Watson's mumbled, thankful that the cab Sherlock had rung had appeared.

Sherlock waved his goodbye to his parents, before opening the cab door for Claudia. He got in after her, and John got in last.

His fathers words circulated Sherlock's head. _Don't let her go._

Sherlock knew just by the cab journey that Claudia wouldn't be going on any train that night. She was already falling asleep, her head leaning on Sherlock's arm. He brushed her hair from her face and looked content. John had to admit, now that he'd seen them together, he was glad Claudia had chosen Sherlock and not some awful and lecherous git. At least he knew Sherlock's intentions were honest.

When they reached Baker Street, she was fully asleep. John got out first and was about to lean in and pick his sister up to carry her inside, when Sherlock beat him to it, swinging her out of the cab in his arms like an expert.

"Pocket." He told John. John groaned and reached into Sherlock's pocket, pulling out some money. He handed it to the cab driver and went to unlock the door.

Once inside, Sherlock put Claudia in his bed, taking her shoes off for her, and his jacket. He then then got undressed himself and got into bed next to her, considering his fathers words carefully and thinking of how to do what he asked.

By the time John had woken up in the morning, Claudia had gone. She'd gone even before Sherlock woke up, and he only slept for a mere couple of hours at one time.

"She must've woken up during the night and just gone. She does have work that has to be in today, though. Don't hold it against her." John warned, pointing seriously at Sherlock, who was sulking and angrily playing his violin.

"Where's my coffee?" Sherlock demanded, eyeing up the empty space on the coffee table where John usually placed his coffee in the morning.

"I'm going out. Make your own damn coffee." John frowned, putting on his jacket and straightening it's collar.

"Oh, you're meeting Carla, are you?" Sherlock asked, mocking him.

"Yes, Sherlock." John sighed. As he made to leave, Sherlock picked Carla's leather jacket from the chair next to him and threw it at the doctor. John picked it up and saluted Sherlock goodbye.

It had been close. Sherlock had almost caught them. If it hadn't have been for his boss' quick thinking, he would have caught them and the game would have ended before it started.

They had watched as a couple of days after the department store fiasco, both Sherlock and the bitch he was with had gotten on a train to get back to London. Naturally, they followed.

That afternoon, they'd pretended to be mourners attending Thomas Holmes' funeral- all in order to watch and try to find out exactly who the girl was.

"Dana." The man said to his boss. Dana turned to look. In the bright glow of the full moon above, they watched as the girl tripped over a tree root, and Sherlock caught her.

"Shame. That could've smashed her pretty face in for me. Now I'll _still_ have to do it." Dana sighed dramatically.

"The Fall?" He asked Dana.

"Yes, Sven. The Fall." She smirked, twirling her umbrella in her hand and walking away, feeling triumphant despite the fact that the man she pined over was stood with another woman.

Sven trained his eyes on the couple, and couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the couple.

Claudia was on her own that night, sipping her red wine as if her life depended on it and listening to sad music as she usually did on lonely nights. All of her friends were out that night at a bar. They'd invited her to go with them, of course, but she recently just hadn't had the desire to go out and enjoy herself. It felt like she was betraying him somehow, and although she knew that was stupid, she couldn't help but hold herself back and stay at home sipping wine and feeling generally sad.

She decided to get herself together, knowing that an evening walk in the dusk would sort her out. She put on her parka, and her shoes, and grabbed her phone and keys too. She locked up after herself and walked down the road, not sure where she was going and not really caring.

If she'd have looked carefully, she would have seen the man in the Westwood suit following her every move.

About half an hour into the journey, he made sure he was known.

"Fancy seeing you here, you new in town?" He called in his familiar and eerie Irish lilt.

Claudia froze, and anxiously looked around to find Moriarty. She turned and found him stood a couple of mere inches away from her face. "You well? Keeping busy? You're being followed, you know." He informed her, raising an eyebrow.

"I think it's rather obvious I'm being followed. You've been following me." Claudia pointed out.

"Not by me, Dumbo." He said in a sing-song voice. He made an act of looking around into the trees surrounding them. "They might be listening right now." He told her, and he watched with satisfaction as his Claudia shivered.

"What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I'm warning you against your stalkers, Claudia. Truly." He promised her, and for once, he was being honest. Claudia knew that. But, just because he was being honest didn't mean he wasn't involved in the stalking business.

"Well, you've officially warned me. Now, please leave me alone. You unnerve me." She told him, and it was clear that she did. Well, she had reason to. The man had poisoned her.

"Oh, no. What if they jump out and kill you? Can't have that, can we? It'd just break Sherlock's little heart." He grinned, touching her heart with his index finger. Claudia made no attempt to push him off of her.

"Why are you here, James?" She sighed. The fact that she said his name seemed to affect him somewhat.

"Oh, me?" He asked. "Business trip. You know me, I'm Mr Sex. They all want me. And to warn you against your stalkers, and the inevitable Fall." He winked.

"The Fall?" Claudia asked. Moriarty nodded. "Stop speaking in riddles." Claudia hissed.

"The Fall? Just a little nickname I've given Sherlock's death. The Fall, when Adam and Eve broke their bond with God, and God banished them from the Garden of Eden. The Fall, when humans were shown for what they are.

"Sherlock's Fall- when he breaks his bond with society and is banished from it for eternity. When Sherlock is shown for what he is." Moriarty explained with a small smile on his face. Claudia had to breathe slowly as to control her bubbling temper.

She made to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist, applying just the right amount of pressure to know that if she moved another step, he'd break her wrist. "I'm walking you home." He informed her seriously.

"No, you're not. I don't want you to know where I live." She snapped. Moriarty smirked and tilted his head condescendingly.

"Come now. I already know where you live, darling." He told her, pulling her in the opposite direction as he 'walked her home.'

"Why are you doing this?" Claudia asked.

"I told a few of my employees to break Sherlock whatever it takes. What I forgot to mention was killing you is forbidden." Moriarty explained.

"So?" Claudia demanded.

"So... These little stalkers you've acquired are on my team, but are in fact intent on killing you." He continued.

"Why?" She asked, her pulse accelerating, something Moriarty felt under her sheer shirt, causing him to smile.

"Because one of them is in love with Sherlock Holmes." He stopped and looked her square in the eye.

"It's not Irene Adler, is it?" Claudia asked, nonplussed. Moriarty laughed at her.

"No. But I haven't yet explained to them that if they so much as touch a hair on your head, I will personally ensure that they are killed in the _most_ painful and lengthy way possible. Until I've told them that, I'm walking you home, Claudia." He informed her. Claudia squirmed uncomfortably in his grip.

"Well please hurry up and tell them that." She said. Moriarty laughed again.

"Oh, I will. Don't you worry. I'll be gone by tomorrow. I think I know what to do to effectively warn them off you." He smirked. Claudia really didn't want to know what he had planned in that psychopathic head of his.

"Now that I've got your attention, I will now inform you that whatever rogue mission you're planning is forbidden. Yes, I told you to break Sherlock in any way you could, but that didn't mean killing your romantic competition, Dana." Moriarty snarled. "If your feelings for that man get in the way of the task I've given you, I will cut your heads off millimetres at a time, just to make you really panic."

Dana and Sven were both sat in front of him, bound and gagged to chairs as he paced around them.

"Oh, and Dana, darling, if you go near Claudia again, let's just say that my top priority would be to torture you incessantly until you begged for forgiveness. Sven, you're in charge of her now. You have the calmer head." Moriarty said. Sven nodded boldly. "Good man." He said, and took the gag from Sven's mouth.

"Thank you, sir." He breathed, struggling for breath. "You make sure she doesn't even mention Claudia's name. And if she does, you tell me. Got it?" He asked. Sven nodded. "Now remember, children, you have to break Sherlock down. Make his life not worth living. And that's when he Falls." He grinned nastily.

Sven saluted his boss, but a feeling of dread was circling his stomach and he had the urge to run screaming from the room, shouting "I CAN'T DO THIS!"

**HE'S BACK HE'S BACK HE'S BACK! The Devil in Westwood! And yes, he's back to worshipping Claudia again, obviously. And a little of the plot begins to unravel hmmm.**

**Hope you like the little moments between Sherlock and Claudia, and also that Sherlock's dad thinks his son's all manly and gives him fatherly advice, haha.**

**Please review, you know it keeps me motivated to continue this one chapter per day thing!**

**Love ya. xox**


	4. Sven the Saviour

**Authors note- At the end of the last chapter, initially, I accidentally wrote that it was Mycroft doing the torturing. It was a typo, I meant to write Moriarty. I've corrected it but if you were confused as I know some of you were, Mycroft isn't involved! :) **

"Moriarty's back." She said into her phone, waiting for the inevitable anger of John and calm acceptance of Sherlock. That's why she tackled Sherlock first.

"You saw him?" Sherlock asked, sitting up straight. "Why haven't you told me?!" He demanded. Okay, she thought wrong. Sherlock wasn't being calm, he was the opposite of calm.

"I just did!" Claudia yelled back, looking around her bedroom for cameras, sure that Moriarty had bugged her bedroom.

"What did he do?" Sherlock demanded.

"Walked me home because apparently, there's some crazy psycho who's in love with you and wants to kill me. He was protecting me, Sherlock." Claudia said. Yes, Moriarty was a psychopath killer who could snap from amiable to creepy in a second flat- but he had gone out of his way to make sure Claudia wasn't murdered.

"Who's in love with me?" Sherlock asked, Claudia's information taking him by surprise. His surprised tone made her laugh. "It's not funny!" He insisted, only causing her to laugh more. It was obvious who loved him.

"He didn't say." She finally managed to inform him.

"Isn't this a good reason for you to come home?" Sherlock asked quietly. "You'd be much safer if you came home."

"Sherlock, he's threatened to kill them if they even come near me. I'm not coming home." Claudia replied, just as quietly.

"Fine. Be careful." He ordered. Claudia rolled her eyes and collapsed on her bed, not finding any cameras.

"Pass me onto John." She said. She heard a small argument occur with the boys until John finally came to the phone.

"Claude?" He asked.

"Moriarty's back." Claudia explained.

"What?! What's he done? Has he hurt you? Where are you? Is he holding you hostage?" John demanded all in one breath.

"If you let me speak..." Claudia tutted. "He's done nothing, he's not hurt me, I'm in my bedroom and he's not holding me hostage." She answered him. "He was warning me. There's some crazy people who want to kill me."

"You come home right now." John ordered.

"Yes, tell her!" She heard Sherlock shout in the background. Claudia laughed.

"I'm not coming home because Moriarty said he's going to kill anyone who comes with me." She said for the second time.

"How can you trust him?" John sighed.

"I have to." Claudia replied gently. "I'll let you know if I see him again. Say hi to Mycroft and Mrs Hudson for me. And Lestrade!" Claudia was talking quickly so that John couldn't get a word in edgeways and therefore couldn't convince Claude to go home. "Love you, bye!" She exclaimed and quickly hung up.

With her duty done for the night, she went to look out of her back window. A large and butch looking man was stood watching her with his professional camera.

He noticed her watching and waved at her. Claudia opened her window and leaned out.

"Who are you?!" She called, thinking it to be one of the people to make Sherlock Fall.

The man simply smiled at her and shook his head, walking away slowly with a silent woman by his side, following the man like a puppy.

Sven was intent on keeping Dana away from Claudia. The insane woman had insisted on staying in Manchester, where they could attack her in the street if they saw her. It seemed like Mr Moriarty's threats to them both hadn't worked on Dana. Sven would make sure that if Dana said anything more about Claudia, he would inform his boss and hopefully have her killed.

He was her boss now, but he didn't trust her. He knew that if she got the chance, Claudia Watson would be dead. Sven didn't want that. Claudia was innocent, she hadn't done anything wrong.

Sherlock Holmes was innocent too, and Sven also intended on keeping him as safe as possible. He knew by defying Moriarty's orders of 'breaking Sherlock' he could be killed, but it didn't matter to him. He was almost forty and was still carrying out other peoples dirty work. But no more. He would not break Sherlock, and if it got him killed, then so be it.

It was time he took control and decided who lived and who died. Sherlock Holmes, Claudia Watson and the doctor- John Watson, would all remain alive as long as Sven was in charge of Dana.

Claudia sat back down on her bed, sure that the two of them were the stalkers. But why had the man waved and smiled- was he winding her up?

She was sure the right thing to do would be to go home, but she didn't want to do that. Moriarty would know, and she would lose face. No, she would trust his protection of her and stay in Manchester.

"Claudia!" Poppy called from downstairs, and Claudia leapt from her bed and sprinted to her friend, worried that the stalkers had gotten inside. "There's a woman at the door for you." She smiled. Claudia froze. Stalker?

"Stall her." She told Poppy, and ran back upstairs. She retrieved her gun which was hidden under her bed and ran back downstairs. She hid the gun in her waist band.

"Thanks." Claudia told Poppy and she went to the door. There stood a young woman with curly caramel hair and her eyes glued to her phone.

"Claudia?" She asked.

"Anthea." Claudia relaxed. She'd been working with the woman for almost six months.

She slid into the sleek car with Anthea, and watched as Anthea then took a phone call.

"Yeah, she's here... Yes, it's definitely her. No, she's not scared. See you in ten, sir." She said and hung up.

"Mycroft?" She asked Anthea.

"I really can't say." Anthea replied, smiling gently.

"But I know it was him." Claudia frowned, confused. Anthea shrugged and turned back to her phone.

When the car pulled up outside a derelict warehouse, Claudia felt shivers run down her spine. She got out of the car with Anthea, and the two women walked through the building.

"I know him quite well. I used to work for him I'm... With his brother. Couldn't he just come to my house?" She grumbled. Anthea sniggered. As if that would ever happen.

When they finally reached the man with the umbrella, he kissed Claudia's cheek.

"How are you, my dear?" He asked.

"Fine. How are you?" Claudia asked. The best thing to do was remain civil. They were stood in a burnt out warehouse, but yes, they were remaining entirely civil and British. "When did you come to Manchester?" She asked.

"As soon as Moriarty was spotted wandering around." Mycroft replied. "We heard his conversation with you. You handle yourself quite well, but I have to make a request." He said, tapping his umbrella on the floor.

"What's that?" She asked.

"That you return to London as soon as possible. If anything happened to you, Sherlock would be a changed man, and he'd probably end up doing the deed. He'd be quite unstable without you, Claudia. If you return to London, not only would you be protecting my brothers sanity, but I would also pay for your studies at another university. Oxford or Cambridge sounds about right for you intellectual aptitude." Mycroft rambled.

"You think Sherlock would kill himself if something happened to me?" Claudia asked, amused. Mycroft nodded. "You obviously don't know him well then. He's far too into himself to ever do that." She grinned, and Mycroft listened patiently.

"Nevertheless, I cannot take that chance. Now, which would you prefer- Oxford or Cambridge?" He asked.

"Neither. I'm perfectly happy here, and I'm sorry for your wasted journey, Mycroft." Claudia said, turning to leave.

"I don't think you understand, Miss Watson. I'm insisting that you return to London. For my brothers sanity." He called after her, and Anthea stepped in Claudia's way so she couldn't leave.

"Pretty sure this is illegal." Claudia said.

"Claudia, you're making this unnecessarily hard. Just agree that London is the best place for you and we'll have done with this." Mycroft told her.

"If these stalker people want Sherlock, then surely _living with _Sherlock would be bad for my safety?" She reasoned, turning back. Mycroft nodded.

"True. But who'd protect you better than Sherlock and your brother? They'd both put your safety before theirs any day, and you know it." Mycroft said.

"Mycroft, no." Claudia said, although she was tempted. But she couldn't see herself the type of person at Oxford or Cambridge, and besides, she loved Manchester!

"Please." Mycroft said. Claudia shook her head. He shrugged. "Fine. Anthea, let her past. You'll regret it, Claudia, but I cannot force you. Keep yourself safe, my dear. If you change your mind, don't hesitate to call me." He said, handing her a business card.

She took it and was about to shove past Anthea when he called her back for the final time. "What if I said, Claudia, that I want you to visit Sherlock and your brother once a week, starting tomorrow." Mycroft said, obviously distressed that she didn't seem bothered about Sherlock's mental health.

Claudia sighed, not able to turn down his puppy eyes. "Fine." She sighed. "I'll go tomorrow." She promised him. "But only because it's Sherlock. Not because of you." She pointed at him, and Mycroft grinned. It was the first time she'd seen him grin. And all because his brother would be looked after once more.

"Thank you, Claudia! Look after yourself." Mycroft called. "See you at the wedding." He muttered as she left, so quietly that even Anthea didn't hear him. He knew the way his brothers mind worked, and he also knew how the stalkers would work. There would be a wedding soon, he knew it.

It was time for Sven to act. "Dana, I need to go solo on this one. Go and wait for me somewhere." He ordered. "Time to pretend I've been mugged." He grinned, looking up at 221B Baker Street.

Dana sighed and walked off down the street, muttering to herself.

Sven walked up to the door and knocked on it, just next to the shiny brass number plate. The door was opened by an older woman, dressed in purple, with a kind face. He'd done his research. Mrs Hudson.

"Oh, God. I've been mugged.. I don't know what to do... Could I please come in? I think I may faint." He said. Mrs Hudson's eyes grew wide and she ushered him into her own flat, sitting him down at the kitchen table and fussing over him.

"I'll get the boys to find who did it. Sherlock! John!" Mrs Hudson called from her flat. The men had rushed downstairs in less than a minute, figuring that something was wrong.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

"This poor man's been mugged, you need to find who did it!" She exclaimed. Sherlock glared at the man in front of him, recognising him at once.

"No, he hasn't. He's been spying on me, Mrs Hudson." Sherlock explained.

"Is this room bugged?" Sven whispered, eyeing up Sherlock with honest eyes. Sherlock looked around the room and shook his head. "I've got information for you. About James Moriarty." He explained.

"Go on." Sherlock said, immediately interested. He pulled up a chair opposite Sven and watched him intently.

"He's my boss. I've been told to destroy you. But my partner, Dana, is in love with you. I'm sure you know this, Mr Holmes, but she's intent on killing the girl, Claudia. I've been doing my best to convince her against it, but nothing will stop her. I thought you needed to be warned." Sven said.

"Telling us this could get you killed. What do you want?" John asked suspiciously from the doorway, his arms folded.

"Nothing. I've been working for Jimmy for far too long. I'm sick of being dictated to by him. I'm sick of killing, and besides, I think you're wonderful." Sven grinned. Sherlock smirked.

"You say nothing will stop Dana from killing Claudia?" Sherlock asked. Sven nodded. "Anything else?" He asked. Sven shook his head.

"Well, thanks." John said. "And I'm sure we can do our best to protect you, to thank you for protecting my sister and us." He smiled. Sven shrugged, nonplussed. There was no point. If Moriarty found out that he had a traitor working for him, the traitor would be dead within the hour. In this case, it was Sven. Sven just hoped his death would be worth it.

"She refuses to come home, even when she's in danger. I'm starting to think she really dislikes me." Sherlock rambled to John. John smirked.

"She doesn't dislike you. Idiot." He told him.

"Well, why would she rather be away in Manchester being stalked when she could be here with her..." Sherlock trailed.

"With her what, Sherlock?" John asked, loving every moment of his man to man talk with Sherlock.

"I don't know... Male friend." Sherlock said weakly, causing John to laugh at him rather loudly.

"Male friend?" He grinned. "You just want to say boyfriend but don't have the balls to say it." He grinned. Sherlock glared at his friend and got back to looking at the sample of blood he had under his microscope.

"I go to you asking for help because you're obviously a lady magnet..." Sherlock said, smirking as he said it, causing John to glare at him. "And all you tell me is that I'm an idiot who doesn't have balls." He concluded.

"Oh, come on. She's living in Manchester because there's where her university is. She's not coming home because there's no point- her studies are in Manchester, Sherlock. Stop with the self pity thing, it doesn't suit you." John snapped. Sherlock frowned, taking the sample of blood and slamming it a little too hard on the desk.

Claudia hopped off the train, and felt at home amongst the Londoners and commuters. She smiled at the familiar smell of London. She walked with ease along the Thames, smiling at the tourists. Everything was fine in her eyes, there weren't people risking their life for her. There wasn't a very annoyed consulting detective slamming blood samples on the desk because of her. No, everything was fine.

Until she got to 221B Baker Street and found out just how foul Sherlock's mood was.

He opened the door to her and without even saying a word, he stormed into the flat and got back to his work.

"Claudia!" John grinned. "What're you doing here?" He asked.

"I thought I should hide up here for a bit, until it blows over." She explained, putting her hold all bag on the couch. "I'm staying for two nights. That okay?" She asked, glancing over at Sherlock who shrugged, but couldn't hold back his smile.

"Mycroft bribed you, didn't he?" Sherlock asked, not looking up.

"Yeah, he did yeah." Claudia admitted.

"What did he tell you? That I couldn't cope without you? That I was practically a dead man walking?" Sherlock asked.

"It's true!" John mouthed silently where Sherlock couldn't see, causing Claudia to smirk.

"Come on, idiot. You're taking me out to lunch." She said, throwing his coat at him. "And I would ask you, John, but Carla's walking up to the door." She smirked. John grinned and dashed into his bedroom, probably to put on some aftershave.

"Do I have to go?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes!" Claudia stressed at him. He frowned, sighed and then complied.

"I suppose I never did take you for that meal, did I? Something always got in the way." He remembered, causing her to smile and take his hand in her own.

**Has anyone else noticed that Claudia and Sherlock can't seem to keep away from each other? Adorableeee. If I do say so myself.**


	5. Claudia Devises a Plan

Claudia and Sherlock spent their evening rather nicely deducing people. Well, Claudia would deduce people incorrectly and Sherlock would correct her.

"That woman there." Claudia said gently, pointing at a woman at a different table to theirs. "She's... A nurse. And has been for ages. And hates it." She guessed, judging that by the NHS badge she was wearing on her blue jacket. Sherlock followed her gaze and looked at the woman, sipping his wine as he did so.

"Not so wrong. You're getting better." He smiled at her. "She's not a nurse, she's a doctor. Has been for.. Nine. No, ten years. And judging by the amount of laughter lines she has and the lack of frown lines, I'd say she likes it." He said. Claudia smirked and sat back in her chair.

"I'm hopeless. I don't know how you put up with me." She grinned at him. Sherlock smirked ironically. He thought exactly the same thing.

"That man?" Sherlock asked, pointing to an easy one nearby. Claudia frowned.

"He's not happy." She said. Sherlock nodded, she was right. "She's breaking up with him. No, she's _divorcing _him. That's not nice." She frowned, watching as the woman, in tears, handed her wedding ring over to the man who looked drained of emotion.

"Correct." He said, and the pair of them watched the unhappy couple. Both Sherlock and Claudia were thinking the same thing- _I hope I don't end up like that._

The atmosphere was crushed when a waitress walking past with a triple vodka accidentally spilt it on Claudia's shirt, making it go disastrously see through. Claudia looked at herself and sighed, not embarrassed, not angry- just dejected.

"I'm so sorry! I'll clean that up for you." The waitress fumbled, clearly almost in tears. Sherlock watched, amused, as Claudia tried to handle the situation.

"It's fine, really. It doesn't matter!" She tried to calm the girl down, despite having a see through shirt on.

"It does, oh God, I'll give you a reduction from your meal." The girl promised, running off to the till.

Claudia looked up at Sherlock and that broke him, he guffawed rather loudly and grinned at her. She glared at him.

When the waitress came back, the bill had been halved. Sherlock paid just as Claudia dragged him into the ladies bathroom.

"I'm not supposed to be in here." He reminded her as a woman glared at him and left.

"Yeah, I know." She said, walking into a cubicle and taking her shirt off. "I'm like a walking vodka." She complained. "Pass me your coat." She ordered, her hand appearing over the cubicle.

"Why?" He moaned.

"Just do it!" Claudia exclaimed, and Sherlock took his coat off and gave it to her. She slipped it on and did it up, conserving her dignity.

She walked out of the cubicle a lot happier, draped in a coat much too big for her but a coat that smelt of him.

"What?" She asked, when Sherlock was caught staring at her as she ran her shirt under the cold tap and scrubbed the vodka from it.

"Put your shirt down." He told her. She frowned and continued washing it. "It's important." He promised her. She sighed and put it down, wiping her wet hands on his coat and causing him to grimace.

"What?" She asked him.

"Doesn't matter." He told her, glaring at the wet hand marks on his coat.

"What?" She asked, getting annoyed.

"I was going to kiss you but you wiped your hands on my coat and ruined the moment." He informed her, causing her to laugh. She ran her hands under the water again and walked up to him.

"Don't you dare." He told her, in a warning voice.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, her wet hands immediately brushing his hair and making it wet. He made a little frustrated noise, but his annoyance didn't stop him from kissing her back still.

"Can't believe you got us kicked out." Claudia said as they walked home, swinging her bag as they strolled under the moonlight.

"I believe you initiated that, Claude." Sherlock informed her.

"Wasn't like we were doing anything wrong." Claudia defended them both.

"We were getting amorous in the ladies bathroom." Sherlock said. Claudia burst out laughing.

"Are you from the 19th Century?" She asked between laughs. "Getting amorous, that's a new one." She giggled, bumping his hip with hers to show she was just joking.

"You're ridiculous." Sherlock smirked.

Sven had let Dana out of his sight. She'd gone missing, and he was incredibly worried about two things. The first- what Moriarty would do when he found out. And the second- what Dana would do to Sherlock, John and Claudia. She was on a mission. She was crazy and in love with Sherlock, and she would do absolutely anything to get him- Sven knew that. So by letting her out of his sight, he'd been an idiot. In fact, he'd been an absolute and complete idiot.

He himself knew Dana must be in London, because all three people on her hit list were there. He'd resorted to standing outside 221B Baker Street to watch out for her. Hopefully, Moriarty wouldn't kill him if he then found her and stopped her from hurting his precious Claudia. The same precious Claudia that he'd poisoned, apparently.

He'd tried tracking her down, of course he had, using her phone number and sim card to track her phone down. But she'd obviously torn up her sim card, and was apparently now on the run. A hide out, a refuge. She could be doing anything, up to anything, and nobody would know. He needed someones help, and that someone happened to be walking right past him, holding hands with Claudia who was wearing the famous detectives coat.

"Sherlock!" Sven yelled, running across the busy road rather haphazardly to get to the man and his friend. Claudia looked confused as Sherlock grasped the mans arms, knowing something was up.

"What's happened? Where's Dana?" He asked.

"I don't know." Sven admitted, and Sherlock closed his eyes.

"We're going. Now." He said rather snappishly, grabbing Claudia's wrist and practically running down the road with her. Sven followed, keeping guard.

"Who's Dana?!" Claudia asked as Sherlock's grip began to hurt on her wrist.

"Someone bad." Sven told her in his broken Russian accent. Claudia winced and tried to prise her wrist away from his grip, but one look from him stopped her from doing so.

Once they finally arrived at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock shoved her in the flat with Sven, and told her to go to bed. He then left her to it and went back outside, still without his coat.

"Where's he going?" Claudia asked Sven quietly as she watched him walk quickly down the road.

"Looking for Dana, I should imagine." He replied, just as quietly.

"What's going on?" John asked as he walked out of his bedroom with ruffled hair. Carla was behind him, causing Claudia to grimace.

"Someone called Dana?" Claudia asked, hoping her brother would enlighten her as to who exactly she was. John seemed to realise that and he pulled her away from the window. "Hi, Sven." He nodded to the man sat on the couch, biting his fingernails as he drifted off into space.

"What's going on?" Carla asked, she and Claudia still not understanding what was happening.

"There's a woman called Dana, and she's dangerous. Sherlock's gone to find her." John explained, closing the curtains and sitting his sister down. Carla sat next to her, knowing that her best friend would be worried.

"How dangerous?" Claudia demanded, hoping that her brother would tell her the truth.

"I don't know." He admitted. "She's one of the 'stalkers' that's working for Moriarty. Sven is the other." John explained. Claudia was about to shout something at Sven, but the same man interrupted before she could.

"She's crazy." Sven spoke up, his fingers steepled under his chin. "She would do anything to get what she wants." He explained.

"Why are you even here? Moriarty will kill you if he finds out you're helping us." Claudia stressed.

"I think it's past that now, my dear. He already knows. Might as well help you the best I can. My fate's going to be the same, either way." He laughed humorlessly.

Carla looked shocked. "What have I got myself into?" She muttered, glancing up at John who looked apologetically at his new girlfriend.

"He's looking for her, to protect you." Sven insistently looked upon Claudia with steely grey eyes- eyes that had seen too much for such a young man. Eyes of calm determination and an under-spoken wit. Claudia met those eyes and nodded, understanding.

"If he finds her, I wouldn't put it past him to shoot on sight." John added, just as Claudia shook her head and pulled his gun out of his coat pocket, grimacing.

"As if he only has one gun." John smirked, reassuring Claudia of his safety.

"Could he not... Use me as bait?" She asked, holding her arms out. "Get me out there, she'd try to kill me or whatever it is she wants to do, and you could whack her!" Claudia exclaimed, causing Sven to smirk. Carla looked at her as if she was mad. John thought it was a brilliant idea.

"Not tonight. Not when emotions are flying round. If he comes back and hasn't found her, then we tell Sherlock your plan. It's not ideal, but I promise I will never let anything hurt you." John said sincerely. If Claudia wasn't John's sister, Carla would have been jealous. Claudia nodded, in agreement with her brother.

Claudia decided that waiting for Sherlock to return would be torture. Could she have hurt him? Consequently, she decided to distract herself, and went into the limb-strewn kitchen and made everyone a cup of tea. She carried them in on a tray and handed them out, putting a hand on Sven's shoulder as she walked past him to show that she appreciated his help and his calmness during the absurd situation.

She would also be chatting to Mycroft about getting him on the witness protection programme somewhere nice and giving him a hefty salary to compensate for his helping them.

By the time everyone had finished their tea, Sherlock had returned. He walked in the room with a resonating sigh and collapsed in his seat, clearly furious with something.

"She got away. I was close, I could've ended this. But she _fucking _got away." He spat, ripping his scarf from his neck and throwing at John, who appeared to be the brunt of his anger.

"Claudia had an idea. To use her as bait to get Dana to go to her, and then arrest her or kill her or whatever it is you have planned for her." John suggested. Sherlock glanced at his best friend with cold eyes.

"And Claudia would be dead too." He explained. Claudia grimaced.

"I know how to shoot a gun, Sherlock." She reminded him quietly.

"Too much of a risk. No." He said.

"Yes. How else are you going to get her in a weak enough and vulnerable enough state than when she's trying to kill me? Then BANG, you're there and you've tackled her to the floor." Claudia grinned, causing Sherlock to smirk.

"You have to argue with everything I say, don't you?" He demanded calmly.

"When it comes to my own safety, then yes. We're going to do this." She said.

"Well, you're not being bait on your own. Someone will be with you, just in case." Sherlock told her.

"Well then I'm not being very good bait and it might not work." Claudia refuted. "I do it on my own or it could fail." Sherlock shook his head at her words.

"Someone will be with you." He repeated.

"Well, suggest how." Claudia said, almost challenging him, glaring directly in his way.

What harm could it do to just wander around derelict areas of London waiting for Dana to kill her. If she had John or Sherlock with her, she would never try it. She had to be on her own for it to work.

"I'll think of something." Sherlock mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"Right, I think it's bed time." John said, glancing at the clock that illustrated that it was very early in the morning. "Sven, you can stay the night. I'll go and get some sheets for you." He said. Sven nodded with gratitude. Leaving the flat could be the end of him.

Claudia went to go into Sherlock's room, but when she saw he wasn't following, she poked his arm. "Come on." She said brightly. He seemed to shake himself out of whatever was captivating him and stood up.

"Night Carla." Claudia smiled tiredly at her friend before she and her detective went to bed. Carla grinned after the both of them, finding them a bit more than adorable.

Claudia woke up to an empty bed, and it was only four in the morning. She sat up to find him sat on his chair by the window of his bedroom, on John's laptop.

"I hope you're not watching something dirty." Claudia teased, stretching. She turned suspicious when he quickly slapped the laptop shut.

"No." He said, sounding offended. Claudia raised her eyebrows. He stood from his chair and got back in bed, making Claudia relax once more.

The two looked at each other for a second before Claudia placed her palm on his forehead. "You have the most magnificent mind." She whispered, still half asleep. Sherlock smiled.

"Now that we definitely know this woman has gone rogue and that you're no longer under Moriarty's protection, will you contemplate staying here for a little longer?" Sherlock was close to begging her by that point.

She shrugged, her eyes beginning to close. "Maybe." She said quietly, her hand moving from Sherlock's head to his chest, over his heart.

"What will make you stay?" He murmured, his deep voice was sending her back off to sleep.

"Something good." She told him, and he shook his head in exasperation. That could be anything.

"You're useless." He moaned, kissing her forehead and wrapping his arms around her waist as she laughed at his derision.

**Seems like ages since I updated, but it was only two days ago! Sorry I didn't update yesterday, but I was at work and was tired. I wrote half of this yesterday, though! **

**Also, I've worked out my storylines for this sequel. Two storylines, and we're in the first one right now. I think you'll love it. In fact, I _know_ you'll love it because you're cool.**

**Peace & Love.**


	6. Mrs Hudson

Sven couldn't sleep. He hadn't slept in a very long time, and despite the comfort of the couch in 221B, he couldn't turn his brain off long enough to sleep. Even when he heard the low murmurs of Sherlock and Claudia at around four in the morning, that didn't lull him to sleep. He missed his family, he missed his freedom and he missed being safe.

If he knew where she was, he'd happily go and kill Dana himself. He knew her all too well, and he knew she would be plotting something. She wouldn't care about Moriarty's threats to behead her, as long as Claudia was dead first that would be all that mattered.

Sherlock also couldn't sleep. Having been caught on the laptop, he'd relegated himself to staying in bed until Claudia woke up again, so as not to arouse her suspicions. Despite her quiet breathing, and the way her fingers were curled on his chest, over his heart, he still couldn't get in the right peace of mind to drift off. It was knowing that Dana was after Claudia _because of him_ that was killing Sherlock. If anything happened to Claudia, it would be his fault.

He was close to convincing Claudia to stay where she'd be safe, but if she refused to do as she was told, he'd have to call in a favour from Mycroft and get her kicked out of Manchester University, her only other option to return to London like he was begging of her. Either that or get John to guilt trip her into staying.

It was more vital than ever to get Dana's attention -whilst keeping Claudia both safe and as bait, like she'd suggested- and then either killing her or handing her over to Moriarty, who'd then kill her. Sherlock knew how to do it, but how the Hell was he supposed to tell anyone what he was planning without taking it the wrong way?

With one arm still draped around Claudia's waist, he gently stretched with his other arm to his bedside cabinet, and opened the drawer. He then pulled one of the letters he'd found in Claudia's drawer back in Manchester. Of course he'd been snooping around in her bedroom, and it had paid off. He reread the letter for what must have been the twentieth time, and it didn't stop to fill him with warmth as it had done each time. The thought that someone had finally accepted him – despite his bad moods, his temper, his general rudeness and the fact that he left limbs in the kitchen – would never stop to amaze him.

_Sherlock,_

_Here goes yet another rambling letter for you that I'll never send and you'll never see. This is the second week back in Manchester now, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to die soon, probably through boredom. You were right, obviously. I do miss the excitement, and the thrill of the chase as you put it once. But, I start my lessons again next week so hopefully that will stop the boredom. _

_My friend Jen keeps asking me questions about you, I think she may have something of a liking for you. I've told her that you're gay, but she doesn't believe me._

_I also suppose that I miss you quite a bit, even your awful moods and the fact that you're the opposite of a gentlemen and hate the fact that I argue with you all the time about stupid things. You're like nobody I've ever met, and I could really do with you telling me to pull myself together right now because I'm sort of feeling down. A bit. You'd be disappointed in me._

_Anyway, I hope to see you soon._

_Claudia xox_

Short but sweet, he thought wryly, and he folded it back up and put it in his drawer again. It wasn't romantic, he knew that, but he could never see either he or Claudia being very romantic. Valentines day? They'd go to a crime scene. Any romance would make them awkward. Their relationship was built more on awkward times where they admitted their feelings than being openly romantic and affectionate. Quiet affection meant more than open affection. It wasn't bragging about what they had, and it wasn't showing each other off. It was needing someone right there and then, for support or encouragement or simply because you love each other. Either way, Claudia was _the one _for him.

"There's a woman, employed by Moriarty, and she's after Claudia. She wants to kill her." John explained to Lestrade, the silver fox.

"Moriarty wants her to kill Claudia?" Lestrade asked, his brow furrowing.

"No. He's actually warned her to stay away. She's gone rogue and she's gone missing, and we think she's going to strike soon." John said quietly, with Sven stood next to him.

"I have photos." Sven said, handing his camera over and showing the detective inspector a few of the photos of the white haired Dana. Lestrade took the camera and went to question Sven.

"So you know her?" He asked.

"I'm also employed by Moriarty." He said.

"Not like that." John said quickly as Lestrade looked like he was about to get the handcuffs out. "He's turned against him. He's helping us." He assured the man.

"And how do we know this?" Lestrade demanded.

"Sherlock trusts him." John said quietly, and just like that, Lestrade trusted Sven too.

"You can help us look for her. Come on." Lestrade said, gesturing for Sven to follow him outside. "Thanks, John! I'll text you." He nodded. John smiled and waved slightly, before awkwardly leaving on his own. He watched as Lestrade, two other police men and Sven climbed into the car -an undercover car, so that if Dana saw them, she wouldn't run.

He got his phone out and texted Sherlock. '_Sven's gone to find her with Lestrade. JW'_

Dana watched as the policemen got into their car and went in search of her. She stroked the knife that was concealed in her pocket and smiled a toothless smile. She was ready for whatever they threw at her, and by the end of the week, Claudia Watson would be dead and Sherlock Holmes would be hers. His wonderful mind could accompany her wherever she went, his charming good looks would be hers only. He would go from the side of the angels to the side of the devil, and she would be in charge and she would call the shots.

She was going to wait. Wait until Claudia was in a vulnerable position, on her own, and then strike. And if Holmes or Watson got in her way or refused to leave Claudia alone, then she'd just have to kill them all- to Hell with the consequences.

She'd got them all in a state of panic, and panic is good. It makes you all the more vulnerable and weak. Dana would have the upper hand, and Dana would succeed!

Sherlock got John's text and smiled. He had his best men on the job- finding Dana. Claudia was reading something for her course, occasionally making notes or highlighting something. He was keeping an eye on her. He knew he should be out with Lestrade and Sven, hunting down the woman trying to kill Claudia, but he had the harder job of making sure Dana didn't get to Claudia. He was the best one for the job, because if Dana came up to 221B to get her, Sherlock would be the strongest one to get in her way.

Claudia was getting annoyed, Sherlock knew it, by everyone assuming that she couldn't look after herself. She was being babysat and other people were protecting her. She was getting frustrated and agitated, and soon she'd be taking it out on him, he knew it.

Sherlock put Claudia's thoughts to the back of his mind as Mycroft texted him.

'_I have my best people watching for her. Stop worrying, Sherly. Just try your best to keep her in the house. I wouldn't put it past Dana to have a gun. -MH' _

Sherlock nodded in agreement with his brother. Luckily, the same man had given Claudia her own gun, and Sherlock's new job was teaching her how to use it to perfection. John had done a good job of teaching her the basics, admittedly. But she had to be good to be able to get past Dana if need be. The woman was probably a trained assassin.

"Shoot the face." Sherlock told Claudia, interrupting her train of thought by throwing her gun at her. She jumped but caught it.

"Your face?" She grinned, aiming it right between his eyes. He looked at her without flinching.

"_The_ face." He snapped, causing her to laugh. She did as she was told, aiming it between the yellow face's eyes instead. "Your aim is good, but your hand shakes." Sherlock noted, watching as her hand shook under the pressure of holding such a volatile weapon. "Relax." He instructed, walking over to her and holding her hand up, so it stopped shaking. "Don't think of it as a weapon."

"But it is a weapon." Claudia hissed to him.

"Pretend it's not." He said darkly, glaring down at her. She glared at him but then grinned, causing his frown to twitch slightly upwards. He let her go and watched as her hand stopped shaking and she aimed straight at the face.

"Shoot." He told her, and no sooner had he said the word than her finger had pulled the trigger, leaving a smoking hole in the centre of the face. She'd already shot the left eye weeks before, and that bullet remained implanted in the wall too.

"What would you do if there were two people trying to kill you?" Sherlock asked her, watching as she shrugged.

"Think of something." He snapped, getting annoyed.

"Can we not do something else?" Claudia whined. "There's one woman after me, not two. I don't need to know that."

"You're like a child." Sherlock complained, and she aimed her gun at him again. "As if you'd really shoot me." He barked. She took aim and shot, the bullet barely missing his head. Instead, it hit the wall behind his head.

He snatched the gun off her and put the safety one while she laughed at him. "Your eyes went so wide then. You really thought I shot you." Claudia laughed.

"I saw that you were aiming above my head. I'm not that stupid, Claudia." Sherlock informed her, putting her gun away.

"I wouldn't shoot you. Not in the face anyway, it'd be a shame to mess up those cheekbones." Claudia teased, running a finger across his cheeks.

"You're infuriating." He complained, just as she went up onto tiptoes to kiss him.

As soon as their lips met there was an obvious chemistry, an obvious need for each other. It was as if they both thought their time together was limited, and were making the most of each other. Perhaps subconsciously, they both knew that Dana could be successful in her mission, and could very well achieve her aim of killing Claudia. As the pair both half collapsed and half fell onto the couch, a womanly shriek came from the door.

Claudia peered over Sherlock's head to find Mrs Hudson smirking away with a hand over her heart.

"Oh, my dears." Mrs Hudson said, and Sherlock tensed up. He sat up, adjusted his shirt and then stood, facing the elder woman with awkward embarrassment.

"Mrs Hudson." He greeted, as Claudia grinned and also stood up.

"Now I didn't know I had that kind of thing going on in here." She said, a knowing smile on her face as she looked between them. She then attacked Sherlock with a motherly hug. "Sherlock." She cooed. Sherlock watched Claudia smirk at him, pleased that he was embarrassed. Sherlock then pulled away..

"I came to see what the banging was." Mrs Hudson said as she stood back.

"Sherlock was shooting the wall again, Mrs Hudson." Claudia smirked, falling back onto the couch and grinning at him as he sighed.

"I've told you, Sherlock. It's going on your rent." She tutted, pointing him. "I'll leave you to do... Whatever you were doing." The woman winked at Claudia and left them to it.

"Yes, thank you, Claudia." Sherlock said sarcastically, walking to the window and looking outside. As he looked down onto Baker Street, he saw a white haired woman look up at him and wave.

He immediately sped outside the flat and onto the street, chasing the now running woman down it. Claudia, back at the flat, was confused and so resorted to putting the TV on and waiting for him to return.

Sherlock, whilst sprinting faster than he'd ever done before, got his phone out and called Mycroft. "I'm chasing her. Send backup." He asked, and hung up. He then did the same to John.

"Got it." John replied.

Dana sped around a corner and down a street, until she stopped and pulled something out of her boot. She aimed her rifle at Sherlock and shot, but luckily, he ducked down and dived onto the ground. She aimed again but he crawled away, pulling his own gun out and taking aim too. He missed, due to her running off again.

"Fuck." He cussed, getting back up and chasing again. Dana was shooting behind her whilst running. Although this put Sherlock on edge, she wasn't a good shot when she wasn't watching, so he wasn't in any danger of being hit.

In the background he could hear a car speeding down the street behind, and by the sound of the friction of the tyres and the sound of the brakes- it was one of Mycroft's men. Punctual as ever. The car turned up and three men all jumped out of the still moving car, intent of capturing this threat of a woman.

The three men, with impressive looking guns, all chased Dana with Sherlock, shooting as they did so. But they soon came to realise that she'd completely disappeared. Somehow, she'd escaped again.

This didn't deter them, however. The four men all went on a search for her, checking each house on the street and searching through any place that the impossible woman could have hidden.

"How did she get away?" Mycroft demanded when he turned up at the scene, umbrella in his hand. Sherlock looked angry with himself, and devastated that the woman had evaded him.

"She's fast. Unbelievably fast." Sherlock insisted. "I don't think we know quite what we're up against yet." He admitted, and Mycroft would have bet his entire wage for ten years on the fact that his brother was scared.

**So the plot thickens, hm? A few of the upcoming chapters will be fillers like this, until the really big chapter I have planned. I'm getting excited just thinking about it! I know a lot of you don't mind chapters like these, because I usually use fillers for fluff, and everyone loves a bit of fluff now and again.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! **

_**I'm going to start replying to comments again, but I'm going to start with ones from the end of Surviving Claudia, so these are in reply to comments you left from then! **_

_**Fanfiction- Nowordwriter Thank you! I'm glad I made it realistic. I think I'd rather like Moffat and Gatiss crying over this, after what they did to me regarding Reichenbach! :)**_

_**Fanfiction- mariarosa I'm glad you liked it, and I want to thank you for your support throughout Surviving Claudia. Enjoy the sequel! X**_

_**Fanfiction- Gwilwillith Again, thank you for commenting on pretty much everthing I've done,I really appreciate it. I hope my sequel pleases you as much as this has! X**_

_**Wattpad- theshadow2012 Thank you! And yes I will read yours too :) x**_

_**Wattpad- littlemissweird Love comments like that;) Thank you so much x**_

_**Wattpad- DoctorWhovian I'm glad this was your first! Am also glad that you liked, and thank you for the lovely comments you keep leaving :) And you're welcome! X**_

_**Thank you to everyone who commented, but if I mentioned you all I'd be here all day, haha. Love, as always.**_


	7. The Day Before

"You let her get away?" John demanded as the whole group went back to 221B. The small living room was thoroughly cramped. As well as the usual three inhabitants, there was also Lestrade, a bunch of his officers, Sven, Mycroft, his three men and Mrs Hudson had made an appearance too.

"I didn't let her get away, I'm not an absolute idiot, John." Sherlock snapped as he paced the living room. Claudia was worried, biting her fingernails as she watched him pace up and down and up and down.

"What do I do? Do I write a will or something?" She asked, standing up before realising that she was better sat back down. All of the men in the room snapped round to look at her.

"Write a will?" Lestrade frowned. "Why would you do that?" He asked.

"Miss Watson, that woman is not going to kill you, now stop being absurd." Mycroft tutted at her.

"If I could add something." Sven spoke up, sitting serenely in his usual spot. "Dana is intelligent, and she likes an audience. I think she'd like two things to happen. One would be to kill Claudia in a secluded area. The other would be to do it in front of a lot of people, and get the satisfaction of watching their faces. I think it's vital more than ever to do the whole, using Claudia as bait plan." He said calmly. Claudia nodded. She agreed with him.

"Not today." Sherlock said rather quickly. Everyone turned to look at him. Only Mycroft understood, and he covered his delighted hand with his smile.

John, noticing his sisters angst, sat next to her on the couch and put an arm around her. "I don't get how she can just disappear." Claudia breathed. "Was it because she's quick?" She looked up at Sherlock, and he nodded.

John sighed. The stupid detective was completely unaware of the fact that he was slacking on this case, letting things slide, because he was doing exactly what he vowed he never would. He was letting his emotions for Claudia get in the way, and that made him vulnerable. He'd let Dana slip through his fingers because of his nervousness.

John pulled his best friend to the side. "What's your plan?" He hissed. Sherlock looked at him, studying John's every movement.

"You think I have a plan?" He asked, before walking back to the group. His reply had shocked John. Since when did Sherlock Holmes _not_ have a plan?

Dana knew she was teasing the Baker Street lot. Waving at them, letting them chase her. As if they'd catch the elusive Dana. She'd never allow that. She was faster than they thought, and could manipulate anyone into helping her. The only person that had slipped out of her grasp was Sven, but he didn't matter. He was a traitor, and she would make sure somehow that Moriarty found out about it. It seemed that both she and Sven were dead meat.

Sherlock had even called in favours from Scotland Yard _and _Mycroft Holmes to help catch her, and for that she felt flattered. Even government officials couldn't catch her.

All she had to do was catch Claudia and kill her, and then give herself up. Mission accomplished.

What Dana didn't account for, however, was the fact that both of the Holmes brother had a plan- the same plan- and it wouldn't be told until the very last minute, meaning Dana would never know of it.

The men had allocated positions for themselves and were going to check the area around Baker Street. Claudia was going with John, as bait, and with them would be Lestrade. Sherlock and Sven would check somewhere else. Mycroft and his men somewhere else and a bunch of the police would be scattered throughout London. She was a trained killer and her threat wasn't being taken lightly.

Claudia's safety was important to Sherlock, and Mycroft for one would ensure she stayed safe for the foreseeable future. And if that meant calling out the men and going out at all hours, then so be it. He owed it to his brother after the many times Sherlock had begrudgingly helped him.

As the group split up, Sherlock knew that it was his chance to talk to Sven.

"I need to ask you for another favour." He said. "You need to get into contact with Dana." He explained. Sven frowned, not understanding where it was going.

"Why?" Sven asked, scanning around for the very woman.

Sherlock muttered his plan very quietly to Sven, and the Russian actually managed to crack a smile. It would work, he knew it.

"Yes, I'll tell her." Sven promised. Sherlock nodded and gave a small, vaguely pleased smile.

"You know her. Will it work?" Sherlock asked seriously.

"I am sure of it, Mr Holmes." Sven promised, putting a reassuring hand on Sherlock's arm as the returned to thoroughly investigating the area.

"This feels absolutely stupid. I'm only a girl. Why's everyone taking it so seriously?" Claudia asked as she, John and Lestrade wandered down streets and alleys, trying to attract Dana's attention.

"Because Sherlock asked us to. He'd never admit that, though." Lestrade smirked.

"What do you mean?" Claudia asked, and John guffawed.

"I mean..." Lestrade trailed, thinking for a moment. "He asked for our help but he'd never tell you that, because he'd be embarrassed if you knew he was weak." He concluded with a shrug and a wink at John. Claudia pondered that thought.

n"Okay, get that bit. But why did you agree to help him?" Claudia then asked. She was insistent on the fact that there was more important crimes going on. Lestrade was insistent that they'd do this if _anyone_ was in danger of being murdered. That put her mind at ease of wasting police time.

"He's helped us a lot. He's helped us too many times, and this is a way of repaying him." Lestrade then went on to say. Claudia smiled at that. At least he was appreciated.

"What we really need to know though, is where the Hell is this woman?" John wondered aloud, as they walked along the Thames.

Claudia looked into the murky water below, and shivered.

"What _I'd _really like to know is how the Hell Sherlock bagged you?" Lestrade mused, smirking at the now blushing Claudia.

"Can we not talk about this?" John asked, exasperated. He still didn't want to think of Sherlock and his little sister. Something was intrinsically wrong about it.

"I'm curious." Lestrade insisted. "The man is an insufferable pain in the arse who has to have the last word and is more in love with his own mind than he'd care to admit. How has he managed to get a nice and mentally sound girlfriend?" Lestrade asked.

"I think the same thing every day." John sighed, looking at his sister out of the corner of his eye. She was smiling.

The frustrating thing about going on the hunt for Dana was that none of them had seen her before, not properly. They'd glanced at her or vaguely seen her face, but they hadn't taken the time to study her, and that made it nerve racking to try and find her in the overpopulated mess that is London. In the early evening. When the city was more alive than ever.

"It could be anyone." Claudia sighed, tired of constantly having to be alert in case some crazy woman with white hair dropped out of nowhere, karate chopped her and dragged her off to be killed. Although, she thought, that would be a pretty cool way to go. Much better than falling over a pavement or something equally ridiculous; but plausible when it came to Claudia.

"We know she has white hair, and she'll have crazy eyes." John sighed.

"I suppose the only thing we can do is wait." Lestrade agreed.

"Why does she matter so much?" One of Mycroft's men asked their boss. He turned to them with a steely expression clouded with doubt.

"In the complicated and complex web of _ingenuity _that is my brothers brain, he has deemed Claudia as someone of mass importance to him, and if anything was to happen to her, he would relapse and then God only knows what would happen to him, and to John." Mycroft explained.

That silenced his employees, his answer being more than enough to sate their question. Sherlock.

The following day, after an unsuccessful previous day of _not_ finding Dana, Sven was pushed to do the task that Sherlock had set.

He was going to report back to his boss, and hope that the criminal mastermind didn't know that he was helping Sherlock.

The sleek black car pulled up at the destination of Sven's choice and he swiftly and smoothly climbed in, sitting next to the man himself.

"My my, you have been a busy boy, haven't you?" Moriarty asked in his usual lilt. "You've turned to Sherlock's assistance." He claimed. Sven nodded, admitting what he'd done.

"I went because I knew he'd help me find Dana. She's gone missing and I didn't want to bother you with something trivial." Sven lied, but seemingly, Moriarty bought it.

"You're a lucky man, Sven. I'll spare your life this one time because your intentions are good. Now I take it you need my help to find her, or else you wouldn't be here. Is she going to try and kill Claudia?" Moriarty asked, fiddling with his cuff links.

"Yes." Sven said simply. Moriarty raised an eyebrow and sniffed.

"What do you need?" He asked. His tone surprised Sven, who'd thought that the first thing Moriarty would do was kill him, but he was actually taking it rather well. He knew Dana wouldn't be so lucky when he got his hands on her, however. And if Moriarty found out the real reason Sven had gone to Sherlock, his life would be swiftly over too.

"I need you to get in contact with her and tell her something." Sven said, and he told Moriarty the news.

Sherlock had finally told his brother the plan, and had asked for his help regarding a few of the intricate details. Mycroft knew this must have taken guts, because Sherlock would never ask for help so easily. Of course he would help, but more for Claudia than for his brother.

And so he set out to organise the little things, getting other people in the know, arranging for certain people to travel to London. It was all very confidential, and Mycroft was absolutely loving every moment of it. Not only was he one up from his brother, but he was doing what he loved the most- _organising._

If one little thing was wrong, the whole plan would fail and that would be it.

Mycroft's musings were interrupted as his phone rang. A local number- from a phone box he presumed. He answered.

"Mycroft Holmes." He answered.

"_Mycroft, it's Sven. Dana's got into contact with my boss. She's going to attack, as planned. We need to do it soon." _Came the reply. Mycroft paused, tapping his pen on the piece of paper he'd been writing on. A wry smile appeared on his face.

"Now isn't that just wonderful." He said in a deadpan tone. "I need to ask you one more favour. Warn your boss that if he tries to interfere with the plan, I'll personally ensure his capture and torture and inevitable death." Mycroft said calmly. "Send my love to him." He then said sarcastically and hung up, leaving a smirking Sven on the other end.

He turned back to his preparations. Things had to be kicked up a notch. Dana was nearby, and was ready to kill Claudia. If it wasn't for Sven, she would probably already be dead. He would make sure that the man got a knighthood.

He got his mobile out and rang his brother. No answer. He sighed. He sent a quick text instead.

_'Dana's ready to strike. Plan must go ahead tomorrow if possible. Don't tell Claudia until absolutely necessary, or she'll talk you out of it. MH'_

The reply came mere seconds later, meaning Sherlock had knowingly ignored his phone call.

_'Thank you. SH' _

Mycroft knew that must have taken guts for Sherly too. He rarely thanked anyone, and if he did, he truly meant it and appreciated whatever task had been done for him. He was flattered, and went back to writing down his speech, glancing up at the tuxedo he'd hung up in his office.

**Not sure if I'm keeping Sherlock in character here, but hey ho, it's my story so I'll write him how I want. ;)**

**So, Sherlock's 'plan' will be kicked up in the next chapter, so look forward to it! **

**Also, do people like Sven? Thinking of keeping him as a permanent character in this. I quite like him. If any of you has watched Leon with Natalie Portman, I imagine him to be _like_ Leon, but Russian instead of Italian or French or whatever he is. Anyway, I suppose he's bad ass but quite sweet too. He also has a soft spot for Claudia, so I quite like him.**

**And as a reply to many of your questions, I _will _at some point write my Mycroft fanfiction, but I just need to think of a plot first!**

**I'll answer more reviews in the next chapter, because this authors note has gone on for far too long.**

**Love to you all xox**


	8. Nice Day For It

The following day, Mycroft awoke with a small but meaningful grin on his face.

_'Are you ready, Sherly? MH' _He sent as he went for breakfast. It was going to be a long day, and if something went wrong, it would mean the end for Claudia Watson.

Sherlock, upon receiving the text, grimaced and got out of bed. He then rudely woke Claudia up by taking the sheets from her. She groaned and put an arm over her eyes.

"We have to go soon, Claudia. Get ready." He told her, before leaving her to get dressed.

Half an hour later she came out, showered and dressed, and annoyed at Sherlock for waking her up.

"Okay, where are we going?" She sighed, collapsing on the couch where her brother was sat eating cornflakes in his dressing gown. How Arthur Dent, she thought.

"Shopping." Sherlock replied, and John almost choked on his cereal.

"Shopping?!" He demanded. "Since when did the mighty Sherlock Holmes enjoy going shopping?" He asked sarcastically.

"Since a crazy psychopath wants to kill Claudia. Go and get dressed John, Mycroft's going to ring you in about ten minutes and you have to be ready." Sherlock said, grabbing Claudia's hand and dragging her out of the flat.

"Is it even safe for me to be out?" Claudia asked, and Sherlock vaguely nodded. "Well, where are we going shopping?" She grinned, assuming she'd be allowed to go clothes shopping or shoe shopping.

"A jewellers, a bridal shop and a florists." Sherlock explained, and Claudia stopped walking and frowned at him.

"Why?" She asked, eyebrows raised.

"Don't you think it's a nice day for a wedding?" Sherlock asked, looking up at the clear blue sky and glancing back at her.

"Well, yeah." She allowed. "Who's getting married?" She then asked, knowing what he was about to say but trying to put it off.

"We are." He replied.

"You haven't even proposed." Claudia refuted insistently, glaring at the back of his head.

"That's why we're going to a jewellers." He smiled falsely at her, and she rolled her eyes at him.

"Sherlock, stop. I'm not marrying you." She assured him.

"Yes, you are. We're getting married." Sherlock said as he practically pushed her into the jewellers in front of him.

"Sherlock..." Claudia hissed.

"Hello." Sherlock greeted warmly, his acting skills coming out to play. The woman in front of him was also acting, smiling fakely and trying to come across as friendly when really, she was just doing her job.

"What can I do for you, today?" The woman asked.

"I need an engagement ring, and two wedding rings." Sherlock replied, despite Claudia's insistent prodding in his arm. "What?" He asked her.

"I'm not marrying you." Claudia insisted, blushing profusely under his gaze.

"Don't worry. I'm only marrying you to catch the killer." Sherlock ruffled her hair. "Don't you see? It's perfect. You're out in the open, as bait, but we're all there watching. When she turns up, we can kill her." Sherlock explained. "Now, what rings do you want?" He asked. The woman was showing her some brilliantly sparkling diamond rings.

Claudia sighed, giving up. If this was what Sherlock wanted, then she might as well go along with it. They wouldn't actually be getting married, would they?

She tried a few on before settling for the most perfect ruby and diamond ring, holding her left hand out for Sherlock to see.

"What do you think?" She asked him. He nodded, not really looking at it, more interested in looking at his phone. Claudia glanced up at the woman who smiled sympathetically at her.

"Wedding bands now?" She asked, and Sherlock nodded.

"Yes, anything. Just quickly, we have a lot to do." He snapped, getting impatient. Claudia smacked him. If this was going to be _her_ fake wedding day, then it was going to be a _good_ fake wedding day.

The pair emerged ten minutes later with a small bag swinging in Claudia's hand. "Come on, fake fiancée. Wedding dress time." She grinned up at him, and he sighed. He was glad that Mycroft had already picked out a small amount of wedding dresses for her to choose from, that he thought that she would like.

"Already taken care of. Come on." He said, leading her once more down the bustling London street. A couple of minutes later the impatient duo ended up at the elusive boutique. Obviously Mycroft had chosen it. If it was up to Sherlock to choose a wedding dress, she would have ended up in Topshop.

Claudia grinned and led Sherlock in.

"Mycroft Holmes." He told the woman behind the counter, who grinned and sashayed her way into the store room. She emerged with five gowns on silk hangers. She then shoved Sherlock out of the dressing room and went in with Claudia, who grimaced at Sherlock, causing him to smirk.

He waited, hearing the coos and claps and murmurs of delight as Claudia apparently found the perfect dress. He knew what it would be like. Lace, with pearls and sheer material. Obvious.

He paid for the dress and the woman put it in a large box and handed it to Claudia, who smiled delightfully at Sherlock.

"Shame it's not a real wedding." She quipped as they went to find their next destination. He looked down at her.

"It is a real wedding." He replied.

"My family's not even going to be there!" Claudia exclaimed, getting somewhat emotional. Sherlock smirked. Yes they would be. He just decided to leave that little detail until later- making it a nice surprise.

"It doesn't matter. The only reason for the wedding is to save your life. If you don't want to stay married to me after then we get a divorce." He shrugged.

"Ah, and they say romance is dead." Claudia grumbled, and Sherlock tugged her along to their next shop.

"They're getting married! Why?!" John demanded on the phone to Mycroft.

"Sven got in contact with Moriarty. Moriarty then told Dana that Sherlock and Claudia are to be getting married. She promised him she would turn up. It's our last chance, John. Our only chance now to stop her. It's the perfect scenario. She's alone, but at the same time, with everyone. Don't you see?" Mycroft mused.

"And who's idea was this?" John asked, really not believing that it could have possibly been Sherlock.

"Sherlock's." Mycroft replied, as if obvious. "Now, I'm having Anthea drop off yours and Sherlock's tuxedos. Please do wear it, John. It'll suit you." Mycroft explained. "I also believe you're Sherlock's best man, so scrub up well." He ordered.

He hung up before John could refute, leaving the poor man gob smacked and at a loss for words.

His sister was getting married to Sherlock Holmes, all in the name of murder. Bloody Hell. She was going to be Claudia Holmes.

He had to admit though, it was a good plan. Dana would be infuriated that Sherlock was getting married, and would be more desperate than ever to stop them. And that was when they would strike and get her. Perfect.

Dana thought it was amusing that she'd dressed up for the occasion. It was always nice to dress up for a murder, in her opinion. Moriarty had contacted her with all the details she needed, including the location and time. It seemed Sherlock was going all out with this wedding, she thought wryly. All of that money he'd spent, and all he'd have to show for it was a dead fiancé and a disastrous bill. She was teasing them again, hiding in plain view, right outside of Baker Street. But Sherlock and his bitch had left, leaving only John and Sven behind. She grinned at John carried in a box of flowers that had been ordered, and as Sven walked out of the older Holmes brothers car with two suit bags in his hand.

She got her new phone out and texted her boss, who, unknown to her, was helping with her demise. He'd been the one who'd contacted her with the plan, and if it hadn't been for Moriarty, Sherlock's plan wouldn't have worked. Moriarty had also made sure she turned up to the wedding, ensuring her death. But Dana didn't know this, and so luckily, Moriarty was getting these updates from her and wad forwarding the details to Mycroft.

He didn't like getting in contact with one of his rivals, but if it meant keeping his beloved safe, then it was worth it. Besides, she wouldn't be married for very long. Not if his own plan worked, which it obviously would.

Dana stroked her revolver lovingly and tucked it into the large pocket of her dress. She also slid her knife into an inside pocket and grinned in adoration of her own reflection.

They had bought everything. Anything they couldn't get had already been sorted by Mycroft. He'd booked the church, the venue and the catering. He'd also arranged for all family and friends to be escorted to London post-haste. A job well done, Mycroft thought.

Now he had to plan Dana's death. He had trained assassins surrounding the church, and a few of the wedding guests would also be part of his team, concealing guns in their finery. He'd gone to town with this wedding, as if some awful woman was intent on ruining it, she had another thing coming. Well, to be precise, her death.

When Sherlock and Claudia returned to Baker Street, Claudia was slightly dazed but looking forward to the oddest day of her life. Sherlock was worried. Worried about being the centre of attention and worried that his plan would be for nothing. What was the point in getting married if Dana didn't even turn up? Then he'd be a husband for no apparent reason.

When they walked into the living room, they found John looking like he'd been shot.

"What's wrong?" Claudia worried.

"You're getting married." John said. Claudia laughed and nodded. "To **Sherlock.**" He stated, pointing at his friend and causing Claudia to laugh again. She nodded once more. "But... I don't understand." He finally said.

"It's a marriage of convenience, John. And the only way I can think of successfully luring Dana in." Sherlock explained.

"I always thought I'd be happy when Claudia got married." John said, looking sadly at his sister, who seemed rather happy with the whole situation which was a bit worrying.

Sven walked out of the bathroom clad only in a towel around his waist. "Hello." He said in his deep and thick accent, apparently unfazed that he was semi-nude in front of them all. "Uh- Nice day for it." He nodded, walking into John's bedroom to change into a suit. Claudia grinned at the Russian.

"So, when are you two becoming one?" John asked with eyes closed.

"2pm." Sherlock replied. "We get to the church, Claudia arrives and walks down the aisle with you. Mycroft's trained assassins will be hidden all over the church. She'll most likely strike when she and you walk down the aisle. She'll be shot down. Happy days." Sherlock said.

"So you don't actually need to get married? You just need her to walk down the aisle?" John asked with raised eyebrows. Sherlock nodded. "So why are you _actually_ getting married?" He asked. Sherlock shrugged.

"It might not work like that. Better to be safe than sorry." Sherlock lied. John knew it was a lie because that was not a sentence Sherlock would ever, _ever_ say. He was getting married to Claudia because he wanted to, and everyone else knew it. Including Sven, who also knew it.

"I don't know why you're in a mood, John. You're my best man." Sherlock clapped John on the shoulder and handed him two small boxes, which contained their wedding rings. John pulled Sherlock to the side

"Why are you doing this?" He hissed, for the second time in two days.

"If we're married, John, she has to stay with me." Sherlock hissed back, finally admitting his true thoughts. John contemplated that for a moment but then shrugged. If Claudia was happy with that, then he couldn't interfere.

"Right, then." John finally said. "We'd best get you ready."

They were interrupted by a quick knocking on the door below. Claudia bounded to the door to get it, only to find her mother and Harry waiting there with expectant grins on their faces.

"I wish you'd have told us sooner!" Her mother exclaimed, hugging her daughter tightly. "I had less than a day to find a nice dress!"

Harriet smiled briefly at her sister before running up the stairs to get to 221B.

"Harry." Claudia heard John splutter upstairs. They hadn't thought she'd turn up.

"Well, let's go and meet him then. John's told us so much." Mrs Watson grinned, tugging her husband up the stairs with him.

Claudia grimaced. She wasn't looking forward to them meeting Sherlock.

As they stood in the doorway to 221B, Claudia mouthed- "Be nice." To her future husband. He shrugged and put on his acting again.

"Mrs Watson, I've heard so much about you. I do apologise for the late arrangements, but I couldn't help but want to marry her as soon as I met her." Sherlock lied, holding his hand out to the mother that had just fallen in love with Sherlock.

Sherlock's lie, however, had made Claudia burst out laughing, and she had to cover it up with her hand. Such a blatant lie, and they hadn't even realised.

"Harry, will you please stay out until later on." John snapped at his sister in the kitchen, and Claudia smirked at that too. Oh the joys of having family.

"Stop." Claudia then mouthed at him. As her mum walked into the room to sit down, she stood next to him.

"Too much?" He asked her quietly.

"You're a creep." She informed him, slapping his arm and joining her mother. He was glad that out of everyone he could have had a fake but real wedding with, it was Claudia Watson.

John walked back into the living room with a myriad of cups of tea, and handed them out to his parent and sisters. He hadn't made one for Sherlock, which earned him an indignant huff.

"So, Claude, how did he propose?" Harry asked as she loitered by the door.

"Oh, he didn't." Claudia grinned breezily, and Claudia's mother looked disappointed. There was an awkward silence for a few moments until the mother- Victoria cleared her throat.

"Aren't you supposed to keep away from the bride on the morning of the wedding?" She asked in her deep Scottish accent.

"Am I?" Sherlock asked John, who nodded. "I don't know." He said as he walked away from the family and logged onto John's laptop.

"You going to show your old mum your dress?" Her mum asked with starry eyes. Claudia nodded and led her into Sherlock's bedroom, along with Harry, and she shut the door.

"Sherlock, I think we should leave them to it." John spoke up. Sven, by this time, had walked out dressed in a sharp and expensive suit.

"Mrs Hudson!" Sherlock called as a reply. The old lady was at the door in a matter of moments.

"Yes dear?" She asked.

"I'm getting married in a few hours and I need your flat to get ready in." Sherlock said. Mrs Hudson flapped around in panic.

"I have nothing to wear!" She exclaimed.

"Go and get something, Mrs Hudson." John said, getting money from Sherlock's wallet and handing it to the woman. "We'll stay out of your hair as much as possible." He promised. The woman grinned at him and nodded. She had tears in her eyes.

"Oh, you boys." She cooed.

"Wait!" John exclaimed as she slammed the door shut behind her. "It's not me and Sherlock getting married! It's Sherlock and Claudia!" It was useless, she'd already gone. "Why does everyone think I'm gay?" John muttered. Sven grinned but tried to hide it.

Sherlock guffawed but John ignored him, and the three boys left for 221A. One consulting detective, one army doctor and one Russian assassin.

"Oh, Claudia. It's beautiful." Victoria cried, her hands on her cheeks as Claudia showed them the dress she'd bought just an hour before. "You know, I didn't even know you and Sherlock were serious. I mean, John told me you were fond of each other but I didn't know you were thinking of marriage!" She exclaimed. Claudia smiled.

She didn't have the heart to tell her mum the real reason they were getting married. It would break her heart.

"Your dad would be so proud." She cooed. Claudia nodded, a tear in her eye too.

"Who's giving you away, Claude?" Harry asked.

"John." She replied. John was the only person she saw fit to give her away. So he was fulfilling two roles.

"So he's being your giver-awayer and Sherlock's best man?" Harriet asked, smirking. Claudia nodded. "Busy boy." She whistled.

"Now Claude." Victoria said, putting her hands on Claudia's arms. "What are Sherlock's parents like?" She asked seriously.

"They seem nice enough. I've only met them once. It's Mycroft Holmes you want to look out for." Claudia snickered to herself.

"He's the man that invited us." Victoria nodded. Claudia smiled.

For all his faults, Mycroft- the dear- had really helped them.

Meanwhile, Mycroft himself was stood in the large and luxurious hall he'd hired out at Buckingham for the meal and the party. It was all golden and gilded with red velvet and ribbons and lace, just as he pictured it. This was his element. Designing. He'd had Her Majesty's acceptance to use her most well used banquet hall, and he'd just added a modern twist. It was absolutely perfect and for once, he planned on letting his guard down and getting absolutely and positively drunk. He and his men would be stressed after the days events, and a hefty amount of alcohol would be just what the doctor ordered.

And if nothing else, the day would strain his patience, push his boundaries and be _really_ something else. He'd been to a lot of weddings, but he was sure that the wedding between Sherlock and Claudia would be the oddest one yet. Not only because Claudia believed it was just to save her life, but because his brother was actually marrying her for love. In essence, he was tricking her into marriage- not that she really cared.

"An odd couple." He mused to himself as he glanced around at his masterpiece.

**So there you go, the elusive plan. I really really really hope you like it and find it believable, because I've been planning this beauty for ages!**

**So they're going to get married. To kill a murderer. Not the most romantic of weddings but Sherlock has other reasons too that Claudia knows nothing about, obviously. **

**Anyway, please review. It'll keep me motivated to write a perfect wedding.**

**And you know, if I don't get any reviews then Dana might just succeed in killing Sherlock's blushing bride...**

**Just kidding. Or am I?**

**-Fay xox**


	9. Something Old, Something New

"Something old and something blue." Sherlock's mother said quietly as she took Claudia's wrist and wrapped the sapphire bracelet around her wrist. "This was Sherlock's grandmothers." Violet Holmes smiled. "Now tell me, why are you really getting married?" She asked as she sipped her tea.

Claudia, her mother and sister were all sat in the living room with Sherlock's mum.

"Thank you."Claudia said as she stroked the jewel on her wrist. "And what do you mean?" She asked feigning ignorance. She still didn't want her mum to know that their wedding was a sham.

"I know Sherlock, and he would never choose to get married." Violet smirked, glancing at the three Watson's' gazing back at her. "Doesn't matter." She assured Claudia when she noticed the girl looking at her in such a way that screamed 'PLEASE DON'T BRING THIS UP.'

"Where is Sherlock?" Violet asked Claudia.

"221A, I think." Claudia replied, still gazing at the deep blue jewels wrapped around her wrist. "Are you sure about this?" She asked, lifting up the old piece of jewellery. Violet nodded.

"I have no use for it, and Sherlock loved his grandmother. He'd love you to have it, I assume." Violet assured her, patting her wrist before standing up to go and see her son.

Claudia glanced at her mum, who started laughing. "I bet that's worth a small fortune, girl." She said, looking at the piece herself.

"Sell it." Harry agreed.

"No." Claudia glared at her sister and snatched her wrist back. "We have... An hour and a half until we need to set off. I think I should start getting ready." She said, standing up.

Just as she said that, a woman carrying a large suitcase was bustled into the room by a flustered looking Sven, who was already dressed in his suit and had been making sure everthing would run smoothly-ensuring Dana's capture.

"Make up." He shrugged, pointing to the woman before leaving. Claudia grinned and showed the woman into the bathroom- the cleanest room in the flat and so the one that Claudia didn't mind getting ready in.

Meanwhile, Sherlock was bored. John had practically forced him into the tuxedo, and he had a white flower pinned to his lapel. Ridiculous. Things only got worse when his parents turned up. God only knows why they felt the need to arrive early. The wedding wasn't for another two hours or so.

His mother had gone to see Claudia, and his father was having a 'talk' to him in Mrs Hudson's floral kitchen.

"So, you popped the question then?" Sebastian asked his son seriously.

"No." Sherlock replied, drinking his coffee. His father looked oddly at his son.

"I really don't understand why she's agreed to marry you." Sebastian claimed.

"It's a matter of life and death." Sherlock smiled falsely at his father and went back into Mrs Hudson's similarly floral living room, where John and Sven were deep in conversation about tactics and how best to handle the assassin when they captured her.

All talk was interrupted when Mrs Holmes returned down the stairs, glaring at Sherlock.

"What?" He asked defensively as all eyes turned to him.

"What have you done to her?" Violet demanded, and John stood up, ready to punch Sherlock if he'd done anything to Claudia. Sherlock frowned, not understanding.

"She's brainwashed!" Violet exclaimed. "You didn't even propose, and she's still marrying you. What did you do, Sherly? Drug her?" She demanded.

Sherlock guffawed and John sat back down. It was good to know that Sherlock's parents were entirely more human than their children. They understood the importance of things like courting and proposals and a nice, wholesome family marriage.

"They're getting married to capture an assassin that wants to kill Claudia and is in love with Sherlock." John explained briefly.

"Of course." Sebastian grinned, clapping his son on the shoulder.

"I need something new and something borrowed." Claudia muttered as she sat patiently and had her hair curled.

"Something borrowed." Harry said, begrudgingly handing the necklace she was wearing over. It was mother of pearl. Claudia grinned at her sister and accepted it.

"Thanks, Harry." She said sincerely. Harry smiled and sat back down.

"Something new." Claudia then muttered.

"Girls?!" Mrs Hudson called from the living room. She soon found her way to the bathroom and smiled at them all. "I've got you some flowers, Claudia. For you to carry down the aisle." She nodded, handing over the white lillies to her. Claudia grinned.

"Thank you, Mrs Hudson! They're beautiful." Claudia cooed, holding them up and smelling their sweetness.

"Picked this morning." Mrs Hudson smiled, before walking back into the living room. Claudia glanced at her mother and smiled. She then delicately plucked one of the lillies from the bunch and gave it to the stylist.

"Something new." She explained. "Please could you put this in my hair?" The stylist nodded, and weaved it into the delicate material of the veil that would be worn on Claudia's head.

Claudia was satisfied. Would that bring her good luck? She bloody well hoped so. She was already getting nervous about the wedding. Well, not even the wedding. That would be a walk in the park compared to what would be happening at the ceremony. It then hit her that if one tiny thing went wrong, she could be dead in a number of hours.

She pushed that morose thought to the back of her mind and concentrated on the present. She was about to become a wife. To Sherlock Holmes.

"Fucking hell." She cussed quietly. It was all becoming very real to her, very quickly.

Mycroft turned up not much later, with words for his men and for John and Sherlock.

"Moriarty has kept me updated. She's still going to turn up, she's still intent on killing Claudia. This is our last chance, men. As soon as you see her, shoot on sight. Don't even hesitate." Mycroft ordered- swift but sincere. He then turned to his brother.

"I'll see you at the altar." He grinned.

"I thought it was customary for the best man to travel up with the groom." Sherlock said lazily. Mycroft frowned.

"John's your best man." He refuted. "And he's travelling with Claudia."

"I have two best men." Sherlock admitted quietly, his cheeks flushing. His brother tried to hide his smile but couldn't.

"Very well. I'll be back in a moment." He said, and gestured for John to follow.

"Good luck mate." John told his friend before following Mycroft to 221B.

When the men walked into the flat, they both smiled at Claudia. She was wearing the vintage lace dress, with interwoven pearls and opals. The dress itself was off-white, as was the lace veil with the lilly in her hair. Her hair itself was curly, and fell down her back. She had the sapphire bracelet on, and Harry's necklace.

"Stunning." Mycroft complimented. John was suddenly somewhat emotional at his sister in a wedding dress, and it no longer mattered that it was Sherlock she was getting married to. He was just sad that her wedding day would always be a reminder of Dana.

"Oh, Claude." John sighed, hugging her gently- not wanting to crush the delicate dress. Claudia laughed, also somewhat emotional. "Gun?" He whispered in her ear. She nodded. Her gun with her golden name on the side was in her garter. Cliché, obviously, but she didn't exactly have pockets. The only downside was that if she did need to grab her gun, she would have to rummage up her dress, which could look... Compromising.

"Well, I'd better go with the men. I think our car is here. Claudia." Mycroft said, gesturing for her to join him. He bent down and whispered in her ear.

"Shoot on sight." He said. She nodded. "Good luck, dear." He then told her, and saluted to her. "I think everyone apart from those two have to join me." He said.

Claudia received hugs from all of the women as they left to get to the church- leaving John and Claudia alone.

"You could've had bridesmaids, you know." John said as they waited for their own car. Claudia walked to the window and watched as Sherlock got into the car with his brother and his other family members. She smiled.

"It would've risked their lives." She replied. If Dana shot, and missed Claudia, that could be one of her best friends dead. No, they would all be watching in the congregation.

"Oh, but you're fine with risking my life?" John asked, amused. Claudia laughed at him and nodded.

"Of course." She grinned, but John noticed that her hands were shaking. She was worried.

"Now, are you worried about the actual wedding or the homicidal assassin that's going to turn up?" John asked her.

"A bit of both." Claudia admitted. John sighed. He didn't know what to say to that.

Claudia's heart was in her mouth and her stomach was doing somersaults.

"I'm worried." She admitted, and John hugged her again.

"It'll be okay." He assured her. "I think the thing you have to worry about the most is how Sherlock is going to cope when he meets our grandparents." John smirked, and Claudia groaned.

"Yesterday I didn't even know I was getting married. It's happened rather quick, hasn't it?" She asked. John sighed.

"Yes." He replied.

A beeping outside alerted them of the presence of the wedding car. "Oh, God." Claudia said, incredibly nervous.

"Come on." John said, "You've got to face her sometime."

He kept an arm around her bare shoulders as he led her outside and to the sleek black car with lillies tied to the bonnet.

"Bullet proof glass." He told her. Courtesy of Mycroft, he assumed. As the car began to drive to the church, John knew he had to comfort her.

"Dad would have been proud." He promised her. "I know exactly what he'd have said."

She turned her head to him. "What?" She asked quietly.

"Where the Hell did you get your looks from?" John imitated a deep voice, and Claudia laughed at him. "I know." He said, and he requested that the driver play a certain song, causing Claudia to grin begrudgingly.

Mr Blue Sky, by ELO. Their song. The song that always cheered her up.

Her morose thoughts of '_Dana's going to kill me and if she fails- I still have to get married_' turned into the much happier thoughts of '_I'm getting married. I'm getting married. I'm getting married.'_

Dana was following the car in a cab, eyes glued to the Watson's in the back seat and her hand twitching to the weapons she had concealed on her person.

"Going to a wedding, are you?" The cab driver asked cheerfully.

"Oh, yes." Dana grinned. In less than ten minutes, poor little Claudia was going to end up with a bullet in her heart.

The men had reached the church relatively early, and Mycroft was the one who greeted the hundreds of guests that were turning up. Hundreds of guests despite having only a days notice. Well, he'd had to bribe most of them to turn up so soon- but there they were. The church was absolutely crammed, which wasn't ideal because Dana could have been hiding anywhere. But it gave the illusion of a real wedding, and so Mycroft was pleased.

He briefly looked inside the church, where Sherlock was sat near the altar. Although they weren't religious and wouldn't be having a religious ceremony, even Sherlock Holmes couldn't deny that it was a nice place to get married.

Mycroft turned back around and nodded at his men. All the guests had turned up, and it was their time to shine. There was about fifty men, and that was only outside. They all had guns, and they were all seeking out Dana. He saluted them all and left them to it, his hand twitching to his own gun in his pocket subconsciously.

Claudia would be turning up soon, and they all had to be ready. He walked into the church and joined his brother, who looked emotionless and hadn't talked to anybody. He was clearly worried that something would go wrong.

"Stop worrying. You're supposed to be happy." Mycroft told his brother quietly. "Now, come on. Dana could turn up any minute." He said. He glanced at their confidante, Sven, who was stood to the side, concealed behind a pillar with his own gun.

He was the best of them all. The best aim, the best shot and he knew Dana. He was perfect. His aim was the doorway of the church, and he was intent on killing her himself.

"Focus." Mycroft muttered to his brother as the church organs began playing, signalling the arrival of Claudia and John outside.

The two men stood at the altar, as well as the registrar who would be marrying them.

The church was in total silence. The people in the know had their guns aimed everywhere, covering every patch. Sven's finger twitched at the trigger. Mycroft's hand was hovering over his pocket, ready to get his gun out in an instant. Sherlock was doing the same thing.

They were ready.

**Bit of a cliffhanger there, but hey! Who cares? If you're lucky I might update again today. The next chapter is going to be brilliant, I know it. Anyway, please review and do what you do best.**

**Also, I have a little question for you.**

**After the wedding, you know with the dancing, would you rather it be amusing or romantic? Or both? I could write it either kind of sweet and funny, or more serious? It's up to you. I'm open to ideas. Let me know guys!**

**Time to talk to you! These are all replies to comments left on the last chapter only. I had A LOT.**

_**Fanfiction- LadySchmetterling I agree, maybe even the best way to catch a murderer. ;) x**_

_**Fanfiction- Gwilwillith Thank you very much! Never been called a genius before, that's quite flattering, haha x**_

_**Wattpad- DoctorWhovian Thanks! Glad you loved it x**_

_**Wattpad- lydiaslibrary I think Sherlock can be sweet when he wants to, ;) Glad you liked it x**_

_**Fanfiction- consultingcydoniantimelord Ooh, you are clever! Well done. Just my idea of fun, the whole foreshadowing thing... ;) x**_

_**Wattpad- OliveHarriett I always thought that Mycroft would just be in his element as a wedding planner. And I'm glad someone got the HHGG reference! Thanks x**_

_**Fanfiction- danastarry LOVE this plan. I might have to encorporate your blood/wedding dress imagery in the next chapter. X**_

_**Wattpad- MyHeart_Sherlock Thank you! I think he's adorable too... x**_

_**Wattpad- ilovepinecone Thaaank youuuu! X**_

_**Wattpad- vooodie I aim to shock :) x**_

_**Wattpad- Kimba_Leeanne I always pinned Mycroft down as wedding planner. I think a wedding would bring out the best in him. X**_

**Whew, a lot of reviews there. Keep them coming, lovelies.**

**And remember- would you rather it cute or serious? What a long authors note.**

**-Fay xox**


	10. The Wedding

_**This is the way the world ends: Not with a bang but a whimper – TS Eliot**_

John got out of the car first, and then opened the door for Claudia. Before he let her out he looked to one of the guards outside of the church.

"No sign of her." He called over to John. John nodded and let Claudia get out then. Both of them sincerely hoped Dana hadn't changed her mind. It would be a huge waste of time if she didn't show.

"Come on." John told his worried sister, whose hands were shaking again. He linked his arm through hers and began to lead her into the church.

"I can't do it." She suddenly cried, breathing heavily and leaning against the wall of the church. John looked around anxiously, aware that Dana could be anywhere.

"We can't do this now." John told her. "We have to get inside." He hissed, as his sister had a small panic attack.

"Please." Claudia gasped. "I can't."

She could hear the organ music playing from inside the church, and she was very aware that she was about to either die or get married.

"Don't even think about it. Just do it. I know you can do this." John assured his sister, looking right into her eyes. She calmed down slightly, and nodded.

"Okay." She whispered, and the pair began to slowly walk back into the church, Claudia really trying not to hyperventilate.

And that was when the cab drew up. Straight away, John knew who it was.

"Claudia, go." He said pushing her into the church. "Run. Now!" He shouted as she stared blindly at him, unaware that everyone was staring at her in the church.

She turned around and whimpered slightly under everyone's gaze, but did as she was told and very quickly began to make her way down the aisle.

She then allowed herself to look at Sherlock. In his suit with his lilly pinned to his lapel, he looked dashing.

"Get down!" Sherlock suddenly yelled, as a bullet shot through the church doors. Claudia turned when she heard the bullet shoot from the gun, but luckily, Sven was close enough to jump and dove across the floor, pulling Claudia with him. The two of them led on the floor, Sven shielding her body from the course of bullets that Dana shot into the church. None of them hit. They all uselessly attacked the stone walls. As the bullets were being shot, Sherlock ran down the aisle and out of the church. He was practically begging to get shot- running right in the path of the bullets.

The next thing Claudia knew, Sven had followed Sherlock outside. She looked up at the stunned faces and drew in a shaky breath. She then stood and gingerly reached under her dress and pulled out her gun.

She took a deep breath and also left the church. What she saw was awful. John had Dana in what looked like a headlock, her gun was on the floor in front of her and about twenty men had their guns pointed at her. Including Sherlock, which made Claudia's heart do funny things to her.

When Dana eyed up Claudia, she struggled to get out of John's strong soldiers grasp.

"You think you could really shoot me?" Dana demanded, her face going red as she grinned.

"Yes." Claudia said strongly, aiming her gun. Sherlock watched her curiously.

"Oh, just get it over with." Mycroft snapped. "Someone, please kill her." He said. "This has gone on for long enough."

"Prove it. Prove you could shoot me." Dana challenged.

"No." Claudia then admitted, dropping the useless gun to the floor. Not in a nice wedding dress.

Sherlock took her place and aimed, but he actually shot the gun, the bullet slicing through the air and hitting the awful woman.

"Sherlock." Dana cried as Sherlock shot her. She had been in love with him, after all.

They hadn't been expecting her to have another weapon, however. As soon as Sherlock pulled the trigger, Dana reached into her pocket and pulled out a small blade. She launched it at Claudia as her own body went limp. John let Dana fall to the ground and dashed to his sister, who's eyes had gone wide.

She'd been hit.

"It's okay." Sherlock said. "It's only a small knife. Just under the knee."

"Well, you're not the one it hit!" Claudia hissed, aware that her beautiful dress had a small blood stain and a rip above her left knee.

"Oh, stop moaning." Sherlock told her, putting his gun in his waist band and bending down in front of her. He lifted her dress up and carefully took the knife out. He threw it to the ground with distaste.

Claudia winced in pain. But Sherlock had been right, it really wasn't a big wound, but the blood stain on her dress wasn't exactly sightly.

"You'll be fine." Sherlock said in a gentler tone, stroking the bleeding cut that had been left. Sven reached into his pack and pulled out a bandage, wrapping it gently around Claudia's leg.

"A clean cut. Don't worry." Sven smiled at his new friend. He then looked down to the dead body of Dana.

She had an awful smile on her face, and her eyes were open and glassy. He took aim with his own gun and shot her once more, right in the heart.

"My dress!" Claudia complained as she gingerly touched the blood stain.

"I think any bride of Sherlock's is bound to have blood on her wedding dress. It just makes sense. He deals with murderers. I think it's quite dashing." Mycroft admitted, smiling at his soon to be sister-in-law.

"I thought it was going to be much harder than that." John admitted. "I think that went well." He smiled triumphantly, gingerly nudging Dana's dead body with his foot.

"Well, I think that's thanks to my incessant planning for two days. Now, can we please have a nice and civil wedding?" Mycroft asked. They nodded like school children who'd been told off.

Mycroft led the way into the church, with Sherlock and Sven. The various armed men also went in, saluting to the brave doctor and his sister.

"You okay?" John asked Claudia as they waited for the wedding march to start again. She nodded. John went about making sure she looked fine again, straightening her veil and putting the lilly back in place. He then hugged her tightly.

"We can relax now." He whispered. She nodded again.

The organs began to play again and they straightened out, linking arms once more. "Ready?" He asked.

"Yeah." She laughed, and they began their slow walk through the aisle, which was littered with bullets. The congregation this time didn't look as anxious, but some of their faces gave away their utter shock at what had happened. And there she was, Claudia Watson, casually making her way down the aisle with blood on her dress and a stupid smile on her face.

She glanced to the side to find Carla looking like she'd seen a ghost. Claudia grinned at her best friend.

She finally made it to the altar, and John squeezed his sister before dashing over to Sherlock's side and standing there as the second best man, along with Mycroft.

Claudia stood next to Sherlock, and he looked so awkward that she had to smirk.

"We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Claudia Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Today, your lives, which began on separate paths paths will be joined as one.

Do you, Sherlock Holmes, take Claudia Watson to be your wife, your partner in life and your best friend? Will you trust and respect her, laugh and cry with her, love her faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles you may face together. Will you give your hand, your heart, and your love, from this day forward for as long as you both shall live?" The officiant asked.

"I do." Sherlock murmured, very seriously. Claudia had to stop her laughter.

"And do you, Claudia Watson, take Sherlock Holmes to be your husband, your partner in life and your best friend? Will you trust and respect him, laugh and cry with him, love him faithfully through good times and bad, regardless of the obstacles you may face together. Will you give your hand, your heart, and your love, from this day forward for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." Claudia grinned, aware that John was laughing nearby.

"Could I have the rings?" The woman asked John, who stepped forwards and handed her the rings, having to control his smile. At that, Sherlock also smirked. The whole thing was rather ridiculous, and they knew it.

Five minutes later and the rings had been exchanged.

"You have made your wedding promises to each other, witnessed by friends and family and... Police. So now, by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. Sherlock, you may now kiss your bride." The woman grinned. Sherlock rather awkwardly glanced at Claudia, who was smirking at him, and kissed her- as if they were alone. None of that respectable and demure kiss that husbands usually gave their wives. This was all out, and John almost choked.

A few members of the 'audience' laughed. Especially Lestrade, who thought he'd never see the day Sherlock succumbed to marriage. He supposed that when a man as odd as Sherlock found the only woman that would ever possibly love him, he had to hold onto her somehow. How better to do that than create a legally binding contract.

"Please put your hands together to congratulate Sherlock and Claudia Holmes!" The registrar exclaimed, and the room wad filled with applause as they quickly went back down the aisle, practically sprinting away.

When they stood outside, towering over the dead body of Dana, they both took a deep breath.

"Hot in there." Sherlock quipped.

"Yep." Claudia agreed.

"You look, um, stunning." Sherlock admitted. It would have seemed sincere only he wasn't looking at her when he said it. Claudia grinned and hugged him finally.

"Why have you really married me?" She asked lightly. Sherlock paled slightly.

"Nothing of importance." He replied, as the guests began milling out and taking photos. Claudia leaned back and looked into his eyes.

"You're hiding something." She claimed. "And you just legally promised to trust me." She reminded him, and he sighed with resentment.

"I know." He admitted.

"Can we go?" Claudia asked, as people began to notice the dead body on the floor that was only just being loaded into the back of an ambulance that Sven had rung minutes before. Everyone else had forgotten.

"Yes." Sherlock said, pulling her quickly into a cab that had appeared. "Where do you want to go?" He asked her.

"Somewhere quiet." She replied, leaning back and adjusting her dress. Sherlock told the driver the place to go, and they sped off.

How odd, the driver thought. Bride and groom in the back-seat of a cab, asking to get away from their wedding.

"We can have about ten minutes before Mycroft will get angry and call me." Sherlock explained. "And then another ten minutes until he comes and gets us." He smiled.

"Doesn't matter. I just need to get away for a bit." Claudia said. It was all rather overwhelming.

Sherlock had taken them home to Baker Street, and the spouses were both led on different couches, staring up at the ceiling. Claudia was smiling, using the quiet time to calm her nerves. Sherlock was using it to think about his next plan. He wanted to see Dana, and search her for information on Moriarty.

"Is it acceptable to go to a morgue on your wedding day?" Sherlock asked Claudia, who thought about it for a moment.

"Normally, no. But if you want to- go. I'll go with you." Claudia replied, turning her head to watch him. He smiled and stood up in one fluent movement, holding his hand out and pulling her with him.

"Come on." He told her, and the pair of them ran outside. They got into another cab. "St Barts." He told the driver.

Claudia pulled the veil from her head and slapped it in Sherlock's lap. He ran it through his fingers.

"Are we impulsive?" Claudia asked. "I mean, this morning I didn't even know we were getting married." Claudia laughed.

"Not impulsive, Claude. Cautious. She would have killed you today- she was getting impatient." Sherlock assured her. "It had to be done." He finally looked at her.

He suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist with careful fingers. He stroked the large sapphire.

"My grandmothers." He said. Claudia felt self-conscious. Did he want her to have it? "Suits you." He then said, letting her wrist drop. She grinned and flushed. Really- he was her husband, he shouldn't have that effect on her, she thought sarcastically.

They left the cab at St Barts and quickly walked through to the morgue. Molly Hooper wasn't there for obvious reasons- she was at the wedding. There was someone else, someone who Sherlock had never met before.

It was a young man, and as he looked up to find the bloodstained bride and the dishevelled groom, he got a little bit scared. It looked like something from a horror film. As well as that, they were stood in the morgue.

"A woman. White hair. Shot twice. We need to see her." Sherlock told him. The scared man led them through to the slabs where the bodies were put before examination. There she was.

Claudia kept back, waiting for him by the door.

Sherlock checked Dana's pockets, but the only thing he could find was a phone. He put it in his own pocket.

"You can't just take the evidence." The man refuted.

"He's with Scotland Yard." Claudia called, arms folded as she nodded apologetically.

"It's true. Let him have it." Lestrade walked into the room with Mycroft. They knew where the missing spouses would be.

"You're supposed to be at your wedding." Mycroft scolded. Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked back to Claudia, taking her hand and leading her back out.

"Sorry." Lestrade apologized, quickly following the Holmes family.

Having gotten what he wanted, Sherlock allowed himself and his wife to be finally taken to their wedding, where apparently, everyone was waiting.

"The meal is starting in twenty minutes. What were you doing? Do you know how much time I've put into this wedding?" Mycroft snapped.

"Oh, you've been planning it for less than a day. Be quiet, Mycroft." Sherlock snapped, and Claudia grinned.

Nothing like the warm embrace of a family at a wedding.

"Oh, Claudia. Do talk some sense into your husband." Mycroft smirked. Claudia blanched, as did Sherlock. It was the first time they'd properly realised that they were married.

"Really, properly married." Claudia breathed. Lestrade smirked.

"Having regrets?" He asked Claudia. "Get rid of him while you can." He muttered under his breath. Claudia frowned at Sherlock.

"Marital problems?" Sherlock asked sarcastically. "Let me guess, she refused to come to the wedding of someone she's never met and you called her rude, and she called you useless?" He asked. Lestrade sighed and nodded. How had he even guessed?

Sherlock smirked down at Claudia, and she held her hand out for him to take, not even looking at him as she did.

They all piled into Mycroft's car to be taken from the hospital to Buckingham Palace.

"Buckingham?!" Claudia exclaimed when Mycroft told her. "We're going for our reception at a PALACE?" She demanded.

"Yes, dear. But it's really nothing to worry about." Mycroft reassured her.

"You've gone too far." Sherlock muttered to his brother. "This is an impulsive wedding, not a royal wedding." He snapped.

"I couldn't help myself. You only get married once, eh?" Mycroft teased, knowing they both felt a bit awkward about being married. Claudia squeaked a little, but managed to control herself.

All she really wanted to do was run away with Sherlock. But she couldn't.

**What do you think? Is it okay? I'm suddenly self-conscious, thinking it's awful. I really hope it's acceptable. Get ready for the awkwardness of the next chapter. After about two/three more wedding based chapters, it'll be back to normal. :)**

**Please let me know if it's crap, and I'll redo it. I think it's quite sweet, but you know, I could be wrong.**

**PS- To the many people requesting another chapter in the same day, I have done so. Some of you threatened me with Moriarty. I mean, that wouldn't be so bad because – hot – but I can't take my chances. You're welcome lovelies.**

**It's also a quiet end for Dana, but I figured, if there was so many armed soldiers surrounding the church, she was hardly going to do any real damage, was she?**

**-Fay xox**


	11. The Palace Awaits

_**We are far too young and clever – Dexys Midnight Runners, Come on Eileen**_

When they finally got to the Palace for their reception, they were greeted with confetti and cake and photographers. Mycroft practically pushed the newly-weds into their reception room where John, Sven and Carla were stood waiting.

"What's going on?" Claudia asked.

"Moriarty's got in contact." John said, handing Sven's phone to Sherlock who snatched it. His eyes flashed across the screen as he read it. Claudia looked at him expectantly.

"What does it say?" She asked.

"Tell your little friend Sherlock to get ready for the next level." Sherlock read, throwing the phone back to Sven, who caught it. "Unimportant right now." He then claimed. John nodded, in agreement.

They could worry about that later. They'd all had a rough day, and they'd already agreed to get very drunk.

"Very well. But I expect you to keep in contact with me about what happens, brother." Mycroft warned, finally opening the doors to the room and letting the guests flock in.

"Of course." Sherlock muttered.

He watched, frowning, as Claudia lifted her dress up and practically sprinted across the room to get to someone. He stretched to see who it was. Her grandmother, it appeared.

He smiled briefly at her before his mother caught him.

The day had sped past incredibly quickly. There were no speeches on account for having no time to prepare any, but there had been a toast. And of course, instead of the traditionalism of the groom making the toast- it was John who made it.

Claudia considered the formalities and the cake and the speeches such a drag, such a boring drag. The fun part was the dancing and the drunk relatives singing in a corner and the crying arguments in the toilets. That was the fun part.

And so when the day drew into twilight, she was glad when the lights were turned off and the fairylights scattered around the room were turned on.

"I bet the palace has not yet contained a group of drunken wedding goers." Carla muttered to Claudia as the two friends stood at the side of the room, drinking champagne, watching everything take its course.

"Ha. That's what you think. _Royal wedding._" Claudia nodded knowingly and Carla snickered.

"Ah, it's so pretty Claude. You're so lucky you have a nice husband." Carla insisted.

"You think Sherlock designed this?" Claudia laughed, looking at the finery and the lace and the lights. "This was Mycroft." She insisted. Carla looked shocked.

"Well, he did a very good job." Carla grinned, finishing her champagne and dancing her way over to John, who was more than a little bit drunk and was 'making the eyes' at Carla.

Claudia grinned and went to find Sherlock, who she was sure would be hiding. And she knew were.

She walked straight out of the reception room and outside, onto a balcony. A balcony of the palace. It was more than a little overwhelming, to say the least.

"You don't want to dance?" Claudia grinned at him, sitting on the edge of the balcony, teetering dangerously over the edge in her dress. Sherlock frowned at her precarious spot.

"This day's been humiliating enough." He told her. Claudia laughed at that, and stole his champagne from him.

"How do you think I'll feel when I tell my mum this is a sham marriage?" Claudia raised her eyebrows.

Sherlock, with something close to a fierce intensity, grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes.

"There's another reason I married you, Claudia." He told her. She frowned at him. "Something is going to happen soon, Moriarty confirmed that. I need to have complete trust in you and you need to have complete trust in me. That's important. And I've confirmed that. You agreed to marry me, despite not being proposed to, and despite having only a few hours warning. And why did you do that?" He asked her.

"Um. You said it was for the best." Claudia replied, still overwhelmed. Sherlock grinned.

"You trust me." He claimed. He let her hands go and patted his pockets, looking like a mad man, with desperation etched on his features.

"What're you doing?" She asked him, trying to grab his hand again.

He found what he was looking for and took it out of his pocket. He got down on one knee and looked up at her.

"Will you continue to be my wife?" He asked, his bottom lip was shaking. He was nervous. Worried. But about something greater than Claudia. More important. He wasn't worried about sort of proposing, he was worried about the trust thing.

But the way he was knelt down, the way he was trying to prove himself, and the way she had drunken too much good wine and champagne, it made her laugh. And when she started laughing she couldn't stop. And when you laugh on the edge of a balcony, it's probably not the best idea.

She was about to tip over the edge and meet her untimely demise but Sherlock dropped the ring in his hands and grabbed her arms, pulling her off the balcony ledge and onto the balcony itself.

"Careful." He told her. She carried on laughing at him, not letting it faze her. "Will you stop laughing? I was trying to be romantic." He admitted, glaring at her. "I want you to stay." He said.

She stopped laughing and looked at him.

"Stay on this balcony?" She asked, knowing she was annoying him.

"Claudia." Sherlock groaned. Her smile fell. "I don't know why you can't be serious for one moment when I'm trying to tell you that I love you." He snapped, and she grinned at him. "You're insufferable." He claimed.

"You love me." She cooed, pinching his cheek. He stepped back and glared at her.

"Of course I do, you're my wife." He snapped, cheeks furiously red. Claudia's smile went from something ridiculing to something loving.

"_Oh yeah, _I am." She said, dropping her champagne glass she was still clutching and placed her hands on his cheeks as she kissed him, his hands automatically swishing down the lace of her dress to her hips. She tasted of champagne. As he kissed her, her tongue deliciously touching his, he realised that she was swaying her hips. She was dancing with him to the music that played from back inside.

"Oh Sherlock, I love you too." She murmured, her heart racing.

"Would you look at that." Carla whispered to John as she happened to catch them on the balcony. John's nose wrinkled in disgust and he had an urge to throw something at them.

"A woman died for this. He should have more respect." John huffed.

"She _was_ going to kill Claudia. I think he's relaxing." Carla laughed at him. He was most definitely going to be a grumpy old man shouting at children to get off his lawn. "It's time for their first dance, anyway. I'll get them." Carla dashed to the door and poked her head out.

"Sorry!" She exclaimed, and the couple parted and looked at their interruption. "First dance." She whispered. Claudia grinned, but Sherlock frowned. He wasn't looking forward to that.

"Don't worry about it." Claudia assured him, bending down to retrieve her engagement ring and slipping it on over her wedding ring. "It's just the same as we did then. Except without the kissing. You'll be fine." She said breezily, dashing back inside to choose the song, apparently.

Sherlock watched her go with a sense of dread.

He decided to face his demons and walked inside, glad that he was forced to take dancing lessons as a child. At least he wasn't absolutely terrible.

He glared at a few of the people – Lestrade being the main culprit – who were staring at him as he took his place by Claudia, her arms winding around his neck as they had been outside. He wrapped his arms around her waist as the song started and felt relatively content as Claudia placed her head on his chest as they swayed.

He vaguely recognised the song. He'd heard Claudia play it a few times.

"One of her favourites." Carla whispered to Harriet Watson, who smiled in agreement. _In My Life, _by the _Beatles._

"Not as awkward as I thought it'd be." John admitted quietly to Mycroft, who was stood with folded arms watching them dance.

"My brother can be charming when he wants to be." Mycroft replied, smiling fondly.

"And then he had to do that." John sighed as Sherlock heard them, opened his eyes, and glared at them both.

"Yes, he can be charming but he still hasn't figured out how to behave at his own wedding." Mycroft grinned.

_There are places I remember, all my life, though some have changed,_

_Some for ever not for better, some have gone and some remain,_

_All these places have their moments,_

_With lovers and friends, I still can recall,_

_Some are dead and some are living,_

_In my life, I've loved them all._

_But of all these friends and lovers, there is no one compares with you,_

_And these memories lose their meaning, when I think of love as something new._

_Oh, I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before,_

_I know I'll often stop and think about them,_

_In my life, I love you more._

A few other couples took to the dance floor and also began dancing, and Claudia finally looked up at Sherlock.

"We're better than them." She told him, and he grinned. "Even if you did trick me into marriage." She reminded him, and he looked worried that she was about to slap him or something similarly _awful_.

"I like this song." He told her, changing the subject. Claudia almost looked triumphant when he said that.

"I'm going to go back to Manchester until the end of term and then I'm moving back to London. And don't think it's because of you- I was already planning on doing it." Claudia said hastily.

It was Sherlock's turn to look triumphant. His plan of marriage had four aims.

The first, to get rid of Dana. The second, because he simply wanted to. The third, to ensure he had Claudia's complete trust. And finally, to get her to stay in London. They'd all worked.

"Whatever you say." He agreed, as the song finished.

"_Kiss the girl!." _Mycroft mouthed to his brother, who did just that.

_An hour later. A lot of alcohol later._

Sherlock was sat at a table, with his legs up, watching the scenes unfurl before his eyes. He'd watched Claudia sometimes as she caught up with family and danced with some of the children. He'd watched John, who'd been dancing with distant relatives and his new girlfriend. And he'd watched Mycroft, who was talking to government officials and drinking too much wine.

It was quite a nice scene to watch.

What wasn't nice was the fact that there was a young girl sat at the same table his legs were propped up on. He kept one eye on the party and his other trained warily on the six year old.

The girl looked up at him and smiled.

"Are you, erm, enjoying yourself?" He asked in his deep voice. The girl nodded. "That's good." He nodded awkwardly. "Do you like your, er, strawberries?" He then asked. The girl nodded again, and stood up, walking over to him.

Sherlock's eyes widened and he moved his legs from the table, sitting up straight as if she was going to attack him. Instead, she handed him a strawberry.

"Thank you." He muttered when he realised what she was doing.

"Jasmine, what're you doing here?" Claudia asked as she walked over, picking the girl up and swinging her around to the upbeat music. Jasmine smiled and put a strawberry in Claudia's mouth for her. Claudia looked at Sherlock for a moment, winking at him as she took the child of of his hands, knowing Jasmine was making him uncomfortable. Claudia, with Jasmine still in her arms, danced her way to the dance floor, her dress all floaty as she swayed.

Sherlock liked how natural she was with children.

The late night dancing when Sven asked for the music to be stopped. Everyone turned to him, including Sherlock, who hadn't been expecting that.

"I think everyone knows this by now, but this wedding was partly set up to catch a killer called Dana. Well, she died this afternoon, under sad conditions, and I'd like to raise a toast for Dana." Sven said, raising his glass.

"Why?" Someone called, confused as to why they were toasting her.

"Because without her, Sherlock and Claudia would not be married now. And despite her badness, she was deep down, a good person. She was just too much in love." Sven explained.

Claudia grabbed her glass and held it up, as did John and a few others people. Sherlock figured that social conformity dictated that he must do it too, and so he held his glass up.

"To Dana." Sven said, almost sadly. Everyone repeated it, and the music played again.

Once again, social conformity dictated to Sherlock that he must dance with people _other_ than Claudia, and so while Claudia danced with her brother, he danced with Mrs Hudson. He regretted that in an instance, because Mrs Hudson then began to cry about how beautiful the day had been. Had she forgotten the bullets in the church and the rather gruesome murder of Dana?

"I know you don't really approve of me and Sherlock, but could you really imagine me with anyone else? Anyone 'normal'?" Claudia asked her brother, who smiled fondly at her.

"I do approve of you and him, Claude. Course I do. My sister and my best mate. It's just out of everyone you could be with, I still don't understand why him." John admitted.

"Well, why are you best friends with him?" Claudia challenged.

"I don't know." John admitted, laughing.

"Exactly." Claudia grinned, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "Now what's going on with this music? Where's Come on Eileen?" She demanded. Every wedding she'd ever been to had that classic playing at some point. It always got people dancing. Every time.

John laughed and dragged Claudia to the DJ, where they requested the song. When it began to play, John and Claude led the way in the awful dancing category. Cousins and aunties and uncles and nieces and nephews joined in, chanting the words and singing along. Sherlock stepped back and watched as more and more people milled to the dance floor and began dancing. Because of one song. He frowned, not understanding the magic of that song.

Although, watching Claudia dancing with her family was quite uplifting, and although Sherlock wouldn't be caught dead dancing to such a song, he was glad that people were happy. Even Mycroft was tapping his foot a little.

He sincerely hoped that Dana would be happy with the resolved outcome of her kamikaze mission.

**I'm so proud of this story, and I'm so proud of all of you for giving me suggestions and urging me to write it like this! Got a wee tear in my eye when writing their first dance, which is stupid because it's not real. I keep having to remind myself of that. Maybe it's because I was listening to the Beatles song as well.**

**But yeah, if you've ever been to a wedding and not danced to Come on Eileen then something's up! It's a classic! I just have this beautiful image of Claudia acting stupid with relief with all her cousins and such, and the Holmes brothers watching from the outskirts, amused at them all.**

**Also, the reason I chose In My Life for their first dance song is because that's the song I listened to incessantly when I began writing Surviving Claudia, AND I was listening to it throughout writing it, and when I came up with the idea for the wedding. I even listened to it when writing their first dance. I think it's perfect and you should listen to it! Like, now!**

**I would be writing for a significantly longer amount of time if I was to reply to the... 56 comments you guys left me on Wattpad and Fanfiction. You overwhelm me, you really do.**

**Love as always and I hope you enjoyed xox**

**PS- LISTEN TO THE SONGS! **


	12. Back to Normality

_**Jesus Christ alone knows why she's marrying him. But love is- as the Everly Brothers so wisely observed- strange. **_

_**- Quentin, The Boat That Rocked**_

Two days later and everything was back to normal. Claudia was in Manchester until the end of term, when she would finally give up and move back to where she belonged. Sherlock was back to being sardonic, restless and infuriating. John wished his sister was back, but was glad that Sherlock was otherwise preoccupied with thoughts of Claudia, and so hadn't yet scared Carla away.

As much as it made Claudia feel guilty, she wasn't wearing her engagement ring or her wedding ring. It didn't feel like she was really married, and she really doubted Sherlock was wearing his. Legally, they were married. She didn't have to wear her rings to prove it, did she? Besides, she didn't want people asking awkward questions about why she married so young and why she only invited certain people. It hadn't even been her handing out the invitations, it was Mycroft who'd chosen who to invite.

As it happens, Sherlock also wasn't wearing his ring, but only because he handled chemicals a lot of the time and didn't want to damage it. That and he didn't want to be asked awkward questions, just like Claudia.

Sherlock walked into his flat and slammed the door shut behind him. He slammed the end of his harpoon on the floor and stopped to catch his breath slightly. He was covered in blood, too much blood for it to be his own.

John turned around and his eyes widened, Sherlock never failed to surprise him. Or disgust him.

"Well, that was tedious." Sherlock complained, glaring at his harpoon with disdain.

"You went on the Tube like that?!" John demanded, hanging up his phone call to Carla, rather rudely, and staring at his brother-in-law.

"None of the cabs would take me." He explained irritated, walking to his bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him with his heel.

"I'm telling Claudia!" John called, looking with horror at the blood on the floor that was leading into Sherlock's bedroom. That was a job for Mrs Hudson to tackle. He redialled Carla's number.

Five minutes later and Sherlock had left his room, cleaned up, with a clean shirt and trousers on, with his favourite blue dressing gown over the top. He still clutched his harpoon to him like he was it's mother, pacing the floor as he got more and more restless.

"Nothing?" Sherlock demanded as John flicked through a newspaper.

"Military cop in Uganda." John replied, not looking up at his friend.

"Hm." Sherlock contemplated it. John chuckled as he saw something in the paper.

"Another photo of with the..." He trailed, pointing to the rather fetching photo of Sherlock hiding his face from the paparazzi with his deerstalker hat on. Sherlock made a noise of disgust as a response and collapsed on the couch.

"Where's Claudia?" He demanded.

"It's been a week, Sherlock. You've got another couple of months before she's back." John sighed. He'd asked the same question every day for the past week.

"I demand to see my wife." Sherlock grumbled.

"Well, get on the bloody train and go and see her then. Ah, cabinet reshuffle." John said, reading from the paper again. Sherlock glared at John.

"Nothing of importance?" He demanded. He threw his harpoon to the floor in a rage. "Oh, God! I need some, John. Get me some." He begged, eyes wild and wide.

"No." John said calmly, already typing Claudia's number into his phone and calling her up.

"Get me some." Sherlock said intensely.

"No." John said more loudly, putting the phone to his ear as he listened to its ringing. "Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what." He pointed at his friend. "Anyway, you've paid everyone off, remember? No one within a two mile radius will sell you any." John reminded him as Claudia answered her phone.

"_Oh, for God sake, is he demanding you get him some, again?" Claudia asked as she heard the end of their conversation._

"Give her here!" Sherlock exclaimed, jumping from his seat and holding his hand out. John handed the phone over. "Where are they?" He hissed.

"_Hello to you too, dear. I don't have a clue what you're talking about." _Claudia lied, smirking on the other end of the phone.

"Liar. You're supposed to be on my side. I might die of boredom." Sherlock insisted. Claudia laughed on the end, a noise which relaxed Sherlock a little and he flopped back onto the couch and closed his eyes.

"_If you die, can I have your deerstalker?_" She asked.

"Don't be cavalier about my death." Sherlock snapped, hanging up on her. "Mrs Hudson!" He roared, no longer relaxed. John sighed and snatched his phone back. He watched as Sherlock stood and began throwing his paperwork from the desk as he searched for what he wanted.

"Look, Sherlock, you're doing really well. Don't give up now." John sighed.

"Tell me where they are. Please. Tell me." Sherlock asked, desperate. John remained silent. Sherlock straightened and gave John his wide puppy-eyes, hoping it would melt him, like it did with Claudia. "I'll let you know next weeks lottery numbers." Sherlock promised. John snorted. "Oh, it was worth a try." He sighed.

He looked around the room again, then hurled himself to the floor in front of the fireplace.

"My secret supply. What have you done with my secret supply?" Sherlock demanded.

"You told Claudia about it. Claudia told me. I got rid of them." Mrs Hudson said as she walked into the room, looking slightly worried about what she was going to find.

Making a frustrated noise, Sherlock picked up his harpoon. John gestured to Mrs Hudson to make Sherlock a cup of tea.

"How about a nice cuppa, and perhaps you could put away your harpoon." Mrs Hudson coaxed. "Or do I have to ring that wife of yours to talk some sense into you?" She asked.

"Already did it. She laughed at him." John explained. She was useless at times like that.

"I need something stronger than tea. Seven per cent stronger." Sherlock growled. He glared out of the window, wishing for either a cigarette or for Claudia to appear out of nowhere. He would be able to cave her in somehow. She was easy to break. She trusted him.

"I need a case!" He yelled.

Claudia dialled Sherlock's number, knowing that he'd pick up. He'd answered after the third ring.

"_Are you restless?"_ She asked.

"Of course not." He replied edgily.

"_That means you are." _She smirked. _"Just go to Scotland Yard, they're bound to have something for you." She told him._

"I did that. Nothing of importance." Sherlock moaned. "I demand that you move back to London now." He snapped.

"_Why_? _So you can break me down and find out where your cigarettes are?"_ She demanded. _"I'm not that weak."_ She stated.

"Oh, my darling wife. The apple of my eye. The sweetness of my life. The one and only woman for me." He said lovingly. "Where are they?" He demanded.

Claudia smirked. _"Under the coffee table."_ She replied. Sherlock threw the phone to the floor and dove to the coffee table. He practically threw it to the side, to find nothing there. "Liar." He hissed into the phone, where he was met with Claudia laughing at him once again.

"_I'm free this weekend._ _I'm coming down._ _If you can resist having a cigarette until then, I'll let you have one."_ She promised him.

"Deal." He said desperately.

"_Now leave Mrs Hudson alone and go and do some science or something."_ She instructed, before being the one to hang up.

Sherlock relaxed and sat back in his seat, fingers steepled under his chin as he tried to think of a way to find a case.

"That woman is a miracle worker." John claimed, in awe of his sister.

"Check my website for a case." Sherlock clicked his fingers at John, who sighed and logged onto his laptop. He then passed it to the consulting detective.

"Anything?" John asked.

"Dear Mr Sherlock Holmes. I can't find Bluebell anywhere. Please please please can you help?" Sherlock read aloud, the message obviously annoying him.

"Bluebell?" John asked.

"A rabbit, John!" Sherlock roared. John shook his head at his friends restless agitation.

"Ah, but there's more! Before Bluebell disappeared, it turned luminous 'like a fairy' according to little Kirsty." Sherlock said sarcastically, adopting a little girls voice as he made his snidy comment. "Then the next morning, Bluebell was gone. Hutch still locked, no sign of forced entry..." Sherlock stopped talking and his expression turned intense. "Ah! What am I saying? This is brililant! Phone Lestrade. Tell him there's an escaped rabbit." Sherlock insisted.

"Are you serious?" John dead panned.

"It's this, or Cluedo." Sherlock warned. John looked horrified at the mere suggestion of the game.

"Ah, no!" He exclaimed. He stood up.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked.

"Because it's not actually possible for the victim to have done it Sherlock, and that game made Claudia slap you. Twice. And then you sulked all night." John reminded him.

Claudia handed in her assignment just in time. She was slacking, and her professor knew that. He knew something was wrong.

"You've been missing for a few lectures now, Claudia. That's not like you. Is everything okay?" Ian, her professor, asked her sincerely.

"Everything's fine." Claudia grinned, successfully convincing him of the fact that she was not fine.

"What's happening?" He sighed, leaning back in his chair and gesturing for her to sit. "I'm not just a pretty face, you know." He gestured to his sixty-year-olds face sarcastically and Claudia grinned and sat. "I'm a pretty good listener too."

"I'm with this guy." She said, smirking when Ian rolled his eyes. "And then I married him." She said, and his eyebrows raised with surprise. "And now I'm worried that everything's going to be awkward." She admitted.

"Surely the wedding was consensual. Why would it be awkward?" Ian frowned. Well, he hadn't met Sherlock.

"He's an odd man." Claudia allowed. "You'd like him." She grinned. Ian smiled fondly at her, one of his favourite and most diligent students.

"Ah, then he must be a good man. You want some advice? You don't want it to be awkward- then don't let it be awkward." Ian patted her hand and sat back. Claudia's smile grew.

"Thanks, Ian. I'll make sure my work's in early next time." She promised him, standing up and waving as she left.

Claudia unlocked the door of 221B Baker Street and walked in, dumping her bag on the floor and collapsing on the couch. The boys were out, apparently. Or hiding from her. She hoped it was the latter because that could prove to be fun. She always did love a game of hide and seek.

As she thought to herself about where her boys could be, the doorbell rang. Rather urgently, it seemed. She rushed to the door and answered it, only to find a young man standing there with a haunted look on his face.

"Does Sherlock Holmes live here?" He asked in a thick cockney accent.

"Uh, yeah. He's not here at the minute though. Don't know where he is, don't know when he's back." Claudia explained awkwardly, leaning on the door. Did she let him in or not? Was he going to try and kill her or not? "If I let you in, do you promise not to kill me?" She asked.

The man laughed. "Yeah. I promise." He said.

Claudia opened the door and let him through. She then shut it and followed him up. "Sorry, I'm Claudia. Who are you?" She asked him nicely.

"Henry. Henry Knight." Henry smiled as he gingerly took a seat.

"Cup of tea Henry Knight?" Claudia asked, and he nodded eagerly. She dashed into the kitchen, pushed the plate of toes away from the kettle and began making two cups of tea. As she waited for the kettle to boil she rang her brother.

"There's a man here for Sherlock. Any idea how long you'll be?" Claudia asked.

"_Literally getting out the cab now, Claude." _John replied, and Claudia hung up. Carrying the cups of tea into the lounge she sat next to Henry.

"They've just pulled up now." She smiled at him, and he smiled thankfully for the tea. "Brace yourself." She warned him politely as they heard two pairs of feet lumbering their way up the stairs. The two men crashed through the door.

Sherlock stopped and stared at the man talking comfortably with Claudia, possibly flirting even.

"What do you want?" Sherlock asked.

"And this... This is Sherlock Holmes." Claudia grinned, gesturing to her husband.

Henry showed them a documentary that he'd brought with them of something that happened to him as a child

"_...The chemical and biological weapons research centre which is said to be even more sensitive than Porton Down. Since the end of World War Two, there've been persistent stories about the Baskerville experiments: genetic mutations, animals grown for the battlefield." _

Sherlock looked bored, understandably. John was watching curiously, his thumb in his mouth as he concentrated. And Claudia was still sat next to Henry, frowning as she watched intently.

The footage switched to a child, Henry, apparently.

"I was just a kid. It was on the moor." The present Henry stuttered, and Claudia put a hand on his knee to comfort him. "It was dark, but I know what I saw. I know what killed my father." He insisted.

Sherlock sighed and picked up the remote, switching the documentary off.

"What did you see?" Sherlock asked, eyes narrowed and fingers steepled under his chin as he tried not to concentrate on the fact that Henry was drinking a cup of tea that Claudia had made.

"Oh. I was just about to say." Henry said, pointing to the TV with wide eyes.

"Yes, in a TV interview. I prefer to do my own editing." Sherlock quipped, and Claudia rolled her eyes. She stood and took hers and Henry's cups into the kitchen, where she washed them up.

When she walked back in, Henry looked even more terrified than he already had.

"It was huge. Coal black fur. With red eyes." He croaked. Claudia sat herself down on the arm of the chair that Sherlock was sat in. He subconsciously took her hand and played with her fingers, bending them and opening them out again.

"It got him, tore at him. Tore him apart." Henry cried, tears threatening to spill. "I can't remember anything else. They found me the next morning, just wandering on the moor. My dad's body was never found." Henry concluded.

"God." Claudia said, surprised. She hadn't expected that when she let Henry in.

"Hm." John agreed with her. "Red eyes, coal black fur, enormous. Dog? Wolf?" John's eyes flickered to Sherlock as he asked.

"Or a genetic experiment." Sherlock said lazily, looking away and biting back his smile.

"Are you laughing at me, Mr Holmes?" Henry demanded, getting suddenly furious.

"Why, are you joking?" Sherlock asked.

"Stop being a dick." Claudia cussed, leaving him to it and sitting back next to Henry.

"My dad was always going on about the things they were doing at Baskerville; about the type of monsters they were breeding there. People used to laugh at him. At least the TV people took me seriously." Henry snapped.

"And I assume it did wonders for Devon tourism." Sherlock smirked.

"Sherlock." Claudia snapped, and his smirk fell. John leaned forwards to actually talk to Henry instead of laugh at him.

"Henry, whatever did happen to your father, it was twenty years ago. Why come to us now?" John asked gently, forever the solid voice of reason.

"I'm not sure you can help me, Mr Holmes, since you find it all so funny." Henry said, standing up.

Claudia raised her eyebrows at Sherlock as Henry took his leave.

"Because of what happened last night." Sherlock called.

"What happened last night?" Claudia asked, thinking she'd missed something. But apparently, John was in the same boat as her.

Henry turned back. "How do you know?" He stuttered.

"I don't know. I noticed." Sherlock leaned back in his chair. John frowned. Claudia scoffed.

"You came up from Devon on the first available train this morning. You had a disappointing breakfast and a cup of black coffee. The girl in the seat across the aisle fancied you. Although you were initially keen, you've now changed your mind. You are, however, extremely anxious to have your first cigarette of the day. Sit down, Mr Knight, and do please smoke. I'd be delighted. Which reminds me, Claudia. I haven't smoked all week. Give." He said, holding his hand out without tearing his eyes away from Henry. She ignored him, obviously.

"How on Earth did you notice all that?" Henry demanded, freaked out.

"Punched out holes where your ticket's been checked..." Sherlock trailed.

"Not now, Sherlock." John sighed. He seemed to be doing a lot of sighing recently.

"Be nice, or I break this." Claudia warned, holding up a cigarette dangerously between two fingers. Sherlock bit his tongue just as he was about to launch into something he assumed wouldn't go down very well. He changed tactics and decided to go for amiable detective instead.

If he could ever be classed as an amiable detective, that is.

**Yes, I'm doing Baskerville! I'll try and stay away too much from the script in the next chapter, but obviously there's not a lot I can do when I'm introducing the thing! Also, prepare yourself for jealous Sherlock!**

**I don't think a lot of you liked the last chapter because barely anyone commented :(**

**To those who did, thank you!**

**Please comment and stuff, and if some of you have guessed, then yes. If I'm sticking to the series now, then it means Reichenbach is coming. Be warned. I have my plan and I'm not afraid to use it!**

**-Fay xox**


	13. Claudia's Flirting

Sherlock had explained to Henry how he knew everything about his morning, including the fact that he really needed a cigarette. Claudia was smiling at Sherlock, but painfully trying not to.

"Now shut up and smoke." Sherlock barked at Henry, Claudia went to break the cigarette in his fingers on account of his shouting, but he dove from his seat to save it. He grabbed her hands.

"Please." He told her. She pocketed it and patted his head. He needn't smoke Claudia's cigarette anyway, for Henry was lighting his own and smoking it.

"Um, Henry, your parents both died when you were, what, seven years old?" John asked, looking at the notes he'd been taking.

As Henry inhaled the smoke, Sherlock jilted from his crouching position by his wife and inhaled too, causing Henry to fumble with his words due to the distraction.

"I know. That... My..." He stumbled as Sherlock sat back down in his seat and whined slightly with pleasure. Claudia snorted at him.

"That must be a... Quite a trauma. Have you ever thought that maybe you invented this story, this..." John trailed as Sherlock dove to hoover the smoke again. "To account for it?" John concluded, his eyes watching Sherlock, obviously annoyed.

Claudia grabbed Sherlock's arm and pulled him onto the couch next to her, squashed against the side where he couldn't move unless Claudia did.

Thankful for the lack of a man breathing in his smoke, Henry could talk properly.

"That's what Doctor Mortimer says." Henry nodded in reply to John's words.

"Who?" Claudia asked gently.

"His therapist." Sherlock told her, his breath tickling her neck as she sat so close to him. "Obviously." He then muttered.

"Louise Mortimer. She's the reason I came back to Dartmoor. She thinks I have to face my demons." Henry stuttered.

"And what happened when you went back to Dewer's Hollow last night, Henry? You went there on the advice of your therapist and now you're consulting a detective and his less capable friends." Sherlock said, causing the siblings to glare at him. "What did you see that changed everything?" He asked.

"It's a strange place, the Hollow." Henry explained, eyeing up Sherlock and Claudia curiously. Surely, they weren't together? Surely, the nice Claudia who'd made him a smashing cup of tea wasn't with the rude detective who craved second hand smoke? "Makes you feel cold inside, so afraid." He concluded.

"Yes, if I wanted poetry, I'd read John's emails to Carla. Much funnier." Sherlock said, and Claudia grinned and tried to hide it by turning her face into Sherlock's arm. John sighed.

"What did you see, Henry?" Claudia asked gently, regaining her composure and looking to her right where Henry was still staring confusedly at them.

"Footprints. On the exact spot where I saw my father torn apart." Henry explained, his voice breaking throughout the sentence. Sherlock sat back in his seat, once again picking up Claudia's hand and playing with her fingers.

"Man or a woman's?" John asked.

"Neither. They were..." Henry began to say.

"Is that it? Nothing else? Footprints. Is that all?" Sherlock demanded.

"Yes, but they were..." Henry tried to say again.

"No, sorry, Doctor Mortimer was right. Childhood trauma masked by an invented memory. Boring! Goodbye, Mr Knight. Thank you for smoking." Sherlock said, closing his eyes and steepling his fingers under his chin.

"No, but what about the footprints?" Claudia asked, intrigued as to what they were, if they weren't humans.

"Oh, they're probably paw prints." Sherlock waved his hand as he explained to Claude. "Could be anything, therefore nothing." He shrugged. "Now, off to Devon with you. Have a cream tea on me." He nodded.

He abruptly stood up, almost pushing Claudia off the couch they were sharing. She glanced apologetically at Henry, who was shaking again. Sherlock headed into the kitchen, buttoning his blazer up.

"Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!" Henry exclaimed, having enough of his cavalier nature. Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks and slowly turned around, walking back into the living room.

"Say that again." He asked.

"I found the footprints, they were..." Henry shrugged, not as brave when the steely blue eyes were trained on him again.

"He wants your exact words." Claudia whispered when Sherlock looked like he was going to kill Henry himself.

"Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound." Henry said, confused. Claudia nodded.

Sherlock suddenly grinned. "I'll take the case." He said. Henry looked surprised. He'd been told to leave three times. Sherlock adopted a praying position and began pacing his room.

"Sorry, what?" John asked, just as surprised as his sister and Henry Knight.

"Thank you for bringing that to my attention. It's very promising." Sherlock nodded.

"No, no, no. Sorry, what? A minute ago, footprints were boring, now they're very promising?" John asked again.

"It's nothing to do with footprints. As ever, John, and I'm assuming Claudia too, you weren't listening. Baskerville: Ever heard of it?" He asked the siblings.

"Vaguely. It's very hush hush." John shrugged.

"Sounds like a good place to start." Sherlock smiled, satisfied. Claudia reached into her pocket and handed him the cigarette. He took it and put it in his mouth, waiting for a lighter. "You go ahead, Henry. We'll follow later." Sherlock told Henry.

"I'm not going. It sounds dreadfully boring. Some childhood nightmare. Not going!" Claudia exclaimed as she led on Sherlock's bed, reading her book as he paced the room.

"You're my wife. You're legally obligated to do as I want." Sherlock told her.

"That's not how it works." Claudia laughed, picking up a pillow from the bed and launching it at him. He caught it with one hand and threw it back.

"You're coming." Sherlock insisted.

"I'm not." Claudia replied. Sherlock glared at her.

"You'd be home on your own." Sherlock reminded her.

"I like being on my own sometimes. I'll have a bath and drink wine and be a girl." Claudia informed him, smiling smugly at his pained expression.

"I might just tell Mycroft to pop round. I don't trust you on your own. He'll come and keep you company." He told her, smiling as he watched her react.

She glared at him, not sure whether to call his bluff. She sighed and got up from the bed, dragging her already packed suitcase into the living room where John had carried his. Sherlock picked his own up with ease and joined them.

"Claude, I'll take ours to the cab. It's waiting." John said, taking it from the girl and leaving Sherlock to carry his own.

"Hey, you haven't even said a proper hello to me." Claudia frowned, shrugging into her jacket as she sulked at him.

"What did you have in mind?" He asked, distracted. Claudia smiled sweetly and wrapped her arms around his neck. The next thing Sherlock knew, he'd dropped his suitcase and was putting one hand on her face as she kissed him, his thumb resting just under her closed eye.

His low groans told Claudia enough to know that what she was doing was very right.

But then he pushed her away. His abrupt dismissal of her made her unbalanced, and she stumbled slightly.

"What was that for?" She demanded, shouting at him as she rubbed the knee she'd hit on the coffee table.

"Your brother's coming." He told her, just as John walked in.

"I'm your wife, legally! We can do what we want." She said, grinning evilly at her brother as she left them to it and ran downstairs.

"I don't want to know." John held his hand up when Sherlock opened his mouth to say something. "We have to go. The cabbie's getting annoyed."

Sherlock picked his dropped bag up again and followed Watson outside. Claudia was already sat in the cab and was dictating to the cabbie about what radio station she wanted on. Sherlock got in next, followed by John.

"Paddington station, please." Sherlock told the driver.

Claudia was thoroughly enjoying driving the Land Rover over the Dartmoor moors.

"I told you to pull over two minutes ago." Sherlock lazily told Claudia, and she finally stopped ignoring him and pulled away from the road. They got out of the car.

"There's Baskerville." John said, pointing to a large array of buildings nearby, past the rolling hills of the moors. "That's Grimpen Village." He then pointed to a place a little away from Baskerville. He consulted his map again.

"What's that?" Claudia asked, her hair whipping around her in the wind.

"Hmm?" John asked, lifting his binoculars to his eyes as he looked at the fencing and warning signs around a building that Claudia had pointed at.

"Minefield? Technically Baskerville's an army base. I guess they've always wanted to keep people out." John shrugged, suddenly playfully shoving his sister so she almost fell down the hill they were stood on.

"Clearly." Sherlock said as he watched as Claudia tried to regain her balance. As soon as she did, she took off after her brother, who was already running half way up the hill to get back to the car.

"Hey!" She called as the wind tried to force her back down again. Sherlock sighed.

It was like he was their baby sitter.

Claudia took to the wheel again and drove into Grimpen Village. She pulled into a car park across from an inn she decided they were going to stay in. They left the car to get to the pub when Claudia stopped to watch a tourist guide. He had a sign propped up next to him saying- BEWARE THE HOUND!

Sherlock sighed and took her hand, pulling her along with him. "Stop dawdling or I'll send you home." He snapped.

"Please do." Claudia sighed. The country side wasn't really her cup of tea. She preferred cities.

The inn they were staying in made a point of being vegetarian only.

John was at the bar checking them in, while Sherlock paced the ground and Claudia trying to bag them the best table outside.

When they checked in, John ordered himself and Claudia a drink, knowing it would be a waste of time to order Sherlock one.

When the man behind the bar went to get his change, John noticed that a receipt that had been punched onto a spike said- "Undershaw Meat Supplies." John frowned. He was in a vegetarian hotel and restaurant for sure. He pocketed his change and carried his pint and Claudia's vodka and coke outside, to the table Claudia had hogged.

Sherlock also joined them at the table and sat down, his eyes trained on the tourist guide who was taking his break at the pub. Sherlock picked up John's untouched pint and walked over to the tour guide, Fletcher.

"Claudia, I need you to do something." Sherlock said.

"What?" Claudia sighed.

"Go and ask him some questions." Sherlock told her, gesturing to Fletcher.

"You want me to flirt, don't you? What do you want to know?" She sighed again.

"Whether he believes in the hound. If he has proof. Good proof."

"Gotcha." Claudia grinned and kissed his cheek.

"What's going on?" John asked, confused as the men watched Claudia pick her drink up and walk over to Fletcher who was sat on his own.

"Mind if I join you?" She asked.

"Not at all." Fletcher grinned. She took her seat.

"Do you believe in it? The hound?" She asked in a teasing tone of voice.

"You from the papers?" He asked, amused as he leaned forwards.

Body language, tone of voice and his wide eyes indicated to Sherlock that he was interested in Claudia.

"Of course not." Claudia grinned. "Go on, have you seen it?" She asked.

"And why would I tell you?" He asked in a flirty manner. Sherlock sighed. His plan wasn't working. He stood up and took her by the arm, leading her back to their own table.

"You're a useless flirt." Sherlock hissed.

"Ha, no. I was an excellent flirt, you're just impatient." She tapped his nose and grinned, swaggering back over to Fletcher.

"I suppose our bet's off." She said, gesturing to Sherlock as she talked to the tour guide once more.

"What bet?" He asked her, smirking as he finished his drink. Sherlock sulked and sat back down, causing John to snigger.

"You did tell her to flirt. You can't be all angry when she actually does it, Sherlock." He advised.

"Oh, I bet Sherlock there that couldn't prove that you'd seen the hound." Claudia laughed, twisting a lock of hair through her fingers. Fletcher smirked.

"Well, you're going to lose your money, sweet heart. I'll make up for that, though." He winked at her.

"Oh! How come?" She asked him.

"I've seen it. Only about a month ago." Fletcher began, and Sherlock dove from his seat and stood behind Claudia, listening intently. Claudia smiled satisfactorially at Sherlock. She'd proved him wrong. "It was foggy, mind. Couldn't make much out."

"Any witnesses?" Sherlock asked, a hand possessively on Claudia's shoulder.

"No, but..." Fletcher frowned.

"Never are." Sherlock said, looking away disdainfully.

"Wait..." Fletcher snapped, not liking that a potential date was being taken away from him by some berk in a long coat. He took his phone out and handed it to Claudia, who looked at the photograph he'd got up. It showed a creature all right, in the distance. But it was impossible to tell how big it was, and what creature it was too. Claudia handed it to Sherlock and smiled when she heard his guffaw.

"Is that it? Not exactly proof is it?" Claudia grinned. "Sorry, Sherlock. I win." She elbowed him, loving every moment.

"Wait, wait." Fletcher stood. "That's not all. People don't like going up there, you know. To the Hollow. Gives them a bad... Sort of feeling." Fletcher stumbled.

"Is it haunted? Is that supposed to convince us?" Sherlock asked sarcastically.

"Nah, nothing like that. But I reckon there is something out there, something from Baskerville. Escaped." Fletcher nodded, smiling at Claudia once more, despite the looming hand of Sherlock Holmes on her shoulder.

"A super dog?" Claudia grinned sarcastically, really not wanting to laugh. Sherlock smirked too.

John watched, amused, from afar as he noticed the pair of them taking the piss out of Fletcher without him realising it.

"Maybe. God knows what they've been spraying on us all these years, or putting in the water. I wouldn't trust 'em as far as I could spit." Fletcher insisted, and Claudia wrinkled her nose.

"So, is that the only evidence you have?" Claudia asked when Sherlock kicked her heel to make her start talking again. Unlike John, Claudia needed to be pushed into working. Fletcher hesitated, obviously drawn between liking Claudia and being uncertain as to who they both were.

"I had a mate once who worked for the MOD. One weekend we were meant to go fishing but he never showed up. Well, not 'til late. When he did, he was white as a sheet. He'd been sent to some secret Army place, Porton Down, maybe. Maybe Baskerville. Or somewhere else." Fletcher shrugged, his voice low as he leaned closer, his eyes locked with Claudia's. "In the labs there- the really secret labs. He said he'd seen terrible things. Rats as big as dogs, he said. And dogs..." He trailed, reaching into his bag and pulling something out, causing John to gain interest and leave the table and his much needed beer.

They all peered at what he had to show them, to find a cast of a paw print, at least six inches from the tip of the claws to the back of the heel.

"Did we say fifty?" Sherlock muttered quietly to Claudia. Claudia reached into Sherlock's own pocket and pulled out his wallet. She pulled out a fifty pound note and handed it to him.

"What's mine is yours." She grinned sarcastically, standing up, kissing his cheek, and walking back to her vodka and coke.

Sherlock had taken a break from John and Claudia's early afternoon drinking session to go to the toilet. John also excused himself and rushed after the detective, meaning to tell him something that had been bothering him since they'd seen the cast of the paw print.

"There's been something bothering you for about an hour now. Spit it out, John." Sherlock grumbled without looking round to see who it was.

"When Claude was little, she used to have this recurring nightmare about a beast. She got it from a book she read. It wasn't a hound or anything, but it was big and black with red eyes. She was terrified of it. And I know it's stupid, but she never really shook off her fear of dogs. Especially big ones. So, just be gentle with her." John explained quietly.

"I know." Sherlock replied. "I felt her pulse escalate slightly when she saw it. She isn't aware she's scared of this hound, but she is. It's common knowledge, John, that when a child has a deep rooted fear, it will develop into a deep rooted fear into adult hood." He began to leave.

"Wait! I know that. What I'm trying to say is, try to be nice to her if she gets scared. I mean, you know her very well. She isn't one for screaming and crying, but she might get upset. Just... Be nice." John warned.

"Thank you, John. That thought would never have occurred to me." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"The thing is, knowing you, it wouldn't have occurred to you!" John exclaimed as he followed him back out.

"Will you get Claudia another drink?" Sherlock asked John. The doctor nodded and went to the bar, leaving Sherlock alone to spend a tiny amount of time with Claudia before the action would inevitably kick off.

"Hey." Claudia said when he came back to the table. "What're we doing next?" She asked him.

"Going to Baskerville." He told her.

"What, with the freakish genetic mutations and experiments? Brilliant." Claudia said sarcastically. "How're we even going to get in?" She then asked, frowning. Sherlock reached into his pocket and pulled out a security ID badge with Mycroft's name on it. Claude grinned. "You're a clever boy, aren't you?" She cooed, prodding his face various times.

"Hm." He said with irritation, pushing her hands away. "Keep prodding me and I'll put you in a cage with the dog sized rats." Sherlock said, before realising his mistake. Was she going to get upset at the reminder of her childhood night terror?

Instead, she grinned. "I'd like to see you try." She told him, kissing him very gently, just a small reminder that he probably wouldn't be able to lock her in a rat cage without her coaxing him into letting her out again. He was quite easy to coax, if you knew how.

**There we go then. Hate writing so much in a transcript, and I hate that this chapter is a boring filler. But hey, I'll put in some Sherlock/Claudia cute action next chapter. Promise! Oh, and the jealous Sherlock in this chapter is only the beginning of what's to come...**

**Keep commenting lovelies, it keeps me motivated! -Fay xox**


	14. The Hound

_**I feel so broke up, I wanna go home. - The Beach Boys**_

Claudia was driving in her beloved Land Rover again, but instead of cruising the moors, she was taking the boys to Baskerville. She slowed down slightly when she saw the armed guards and the military presence, which indicated to Sherlock that she felt intimidated- and quite rightly too.

"Just drive up." Sherlock told her quietly, and she did as she was told. An armed guard held up his hand to stop her. She braked and wound the window down.

"Pass, please." The guard asked. Sherlock reached into his pocket and leaning on Claudia to hand the ID across to the guard. "Thank you."

He walked away with the pass and Sherlock sat back into his seat.

"You've got ID for Baskerville. How?" John asked quietly from the back-seat.

"It's not specific to the place. It's my brother's. Access all areas. I um... Acquired it ages ago, just in case." Sherlock admitted, causing Claudia to smirk.

"Brilliant." John said sarcastically as they watched the guards scan the ID card.

"What?" Claudia asked, watching him from the mirror above her head.

"We'll get caught." John insisted.

"No we won't. Well, not just yet." Sherlock shrugged.

"Bet you a tenner that we get caught in five minutes, Claude." John said. Claudia contemplated that for a moment before shaking his hand.

"Five minutes exactly." She warned, grinning at him.

The security guard walked back to the car and handed Sherlock his ID back. "Clear. Thank you very much, sir." He said politely, and waved the car along. Claudia quickly drove away.

"Mycroft's name literally opens doors." John stated, liking that fact.

"I've told you. He practically is the British Government. I reckon we've got about twenty minutes before they realise something's wrong." Sherlock warned them. Claudia laughed triumphantly. She was definitely going to get that ten pounds from her brother. "Now, will you slow down!" Sherlock exclaimed as Claudia sped to the parking space.

"What?" She asked.

"I've put up with your reckless driving all day. Slow down." Sherlock snapped, causing her to grit her teeth and drive faster. She swung into the parking spot and braked quickly, causing the consulting detective to jolt forwards in his chair. John sniggered. He was used to his sisters bad driving, and had been waiting for it.

They got out of the car and a number of soldiers led them through to the entrance of Baskerville's main building. As they approached, a corporal got out of his car too.

"What is it? Are we in trouble?" The man asked.

"Are we in trouble, _sir._" Sherlock corrected, causing Claudia to bite her lip to stop her from laughing. Meanwhile, John simply rolled his eyes. Typical Sherlock, demanding authority even when he didn't have any.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The corporal said quickly. He held his hands up despite his lack of title, to prevent them from getting into the building.

"Were you expecting us?" Sherlock then asked, getting irritated.

"Your ID showed up straight away, Mr Holmes. Corporal Lyons- security. Is there something wrong, sir?" He asked.

"Well, I hope not, Corporal. I hope not." Sherlock said sarcastically, as a warning to the man.

"It's just we don't get inspected here, you see, sir. It just doesn't happen." Lyons explained.

"Ever heard of a spot check?" Claudia asked with raised eyebrows. Sherlock showed his ID to Lyons.

"Captain John Watson, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers." John introduced himself. "And this is Claudia Wat- Holmes. Claudia Holmes. She's his assistant." John explained. Claudia smiled. She quite liked that role. Corporal Lyons saluted John sharply and John quickly returned it.

"Sir. Major Barrymore won't be pleased, sir. He'll want to see you all." Lyons explained.

"I'm afraid we won't have time for that. We'll need the full tour right away. Carry on." John said. Claudia smiled at how bad ass her brother was. When the Corporal hesitated, John was in attack mode again.

"That's an order, Corporal." He snapped.

"Yes, sir." Lyons said just as quickly. He led them through to the entrance. Claudia secretly high-fived her brother. Sherlock smiled proudly at the soldier.

At the door, Lyons swiped his ID card and pressed a button, and the door swung open. Claudia relaxed slightly.

They walked through the door and into a tiled lab, with scientists dressed in lab coats and face masks, carrying cages with various animals in them. As Claudia walked past a caged monkey and frowned at it, it screamed at her, causing her to jump back and knock into Sherlock. He sent an irritating glance her way.

"How many animals do you have down here?" Claudia asked, feeling repulsed by it.

"Lots, ma'am." Lyons said, eyeing the monkey up with disdain.

"Ma'am." Claudia mouthed to Sherlock with a stupid grin on her face, and he smiled at her. More amused at her self-satisfaction than happy for her having a title.

"Do any ever escape?" Sherlock asked, noticing how Claudia tensed up slightly at that part.

"They'd have to know how to use the life, sir." Lyons joked. Claudia nodded. That was a fair point. "We're not breeding them that clever." He added.

"Unless they have help." Sherlock reminded him, and a doctor walked over to them, removing his mask.

"Ah, and you are?" The man eyed them all up.

"Sorry, Doctor Frankland. I'm just showing these gentlemen round." Lyons explained. Claudia cleared her throat with dignity and sent him a pointed look. "And lady." He said quickly, and Claudia nodded. Sherlock shook his head at her, and John smirked.

"Ah, new faces, huh? Nice. Careful you don't get stuck here, though. I only came to fix the tap!" Doctor Frankland joked, smiling. Claudia was the only one to fake a laugh, with both men then staring at her like she'd gone mad at laughing at such an awful joke.

"How far does that lift go?" John changed the subject, turning around with his hands behind his back.

"Quite a way, sir." Lyons replied.

"Hm." John said. "And what's down there?"

"Well, we have to keep the bins somewhere, sir. This way please, gentlemen. And lady." Lyons said, correcting himself before Claudia hit him or something to that extent.

Sherlock was staring intently at Doctor Frankland as he waited for the lift, and even when Lyons began leading John and Claudia away, he still watched him.

Lyons led them into a lab where a female scientist was observing a screeching monkey.

"Doctor Stapleton." Lyons said.

"Stapleton." Sherlock mused thoughtfully.

A couple of minutes later and Sherlock remembered where he knew her from, holding up his notepad which said one word. Bluebell.

"Have you been talking to my daughter?" She demanded.

"Why did Bluebell have to die, Doctor Stapleton?" Sherlock demanded.

"She's a murderer?!" Claudia exclaimed with surprise.

"Claudia. Shush." Sherlock told her, glaring at her for a second before turning back to Stapleton. Trust Claudia to ruin his street cred.

"The rabbit?" John realised.

"Clearly an inside job." Sherlock nodded. Claudia frowned, the mention of a rabbit only confusing things more. Sherlock then checked his watch and subtly inferred that their time was up.

"Well, I think we've seen more than enough for now, Corporal. Thank you so much." Sherlock said, acting once more.

"That's it?" Lyons asked, surprised.

"That's it." Sherlock nodded, briskly walking away, his hand gripped around Claudia's arm as he led them out of the labs. John quickly followed behind, with Lyons trying to keep up.

"Just a minute!" Stapleton yelled after them.

"Did we just break into a military base to investigate a rabbit?" John demanded.

"Did you tell me to shush?" Claudia hissed, shaking his hand off her arm and marching by herself. Sherlock ignored them and swiped his card in the door. They waited for Lyons to do the same.

Sherlock checked his phone.

_What are you doing? M_

Sherlock laughed sarcastically. "Twenty three minutes. Mycroft's getting slow." He quipped.

They reached the lift and the cards were swiped again. When they walked into the lift, Doctor Frankland was there, looking as if he'd been waiting for them.

"Hello. Again." Frankland smiled. Sherlock narrowed his eyes. They got into the lift.

Ten seconds later, and the lift doors opened to reveal a military man waiting for them. He looked unhappy to say the least.

"Er. Major..." Lyons trailed.

"This is bloody outrageous. Why wasn't I told?" Major Barrymore demanded.

"Major Barrymore, isn't it? Yes, well good. Very good." John stepped from the lift and offering his hand. "We're very impressed, aren't we Mr Holmes, Mrs Holmes?" John asked. Barrymore didn't shake John's hand.

"Deeply. Hugely." Sherlock lied as he received another text.

_What's going on Sherlock? M_

And then Frankland came to the rescue.

"Good to see you again, Mycroft." Frankland said, shaking Sherlock's hand. "This is Mr Mycroft Holmes, Major. There's obviously been a mistake." He assured the Major.

"On your head be it, Doctor Frankland." Barrymore warned, and he let them past.

Sherlock quickly walked to the exit, followed by John. Claudia ran after them, with Frankland.

"Thank you." Sherlock said sincerely as they got away with it.

"This is about Henry Knight, isn't it?" Frankland asked. Nobody answered, so Frankland took it as a 'yes.' "I thought so. I knew he wanted help but I didn't realise he was going to contact Sherlock Holmes!" Frankland grinned, causing Sherlock to grimace. He still didn't like his new-found fame.

"You know Henry Knight?" Claudia asked, cocking her head slightly.

"Well, I knew his dad. He had all sorts of mad theories about this place. Still, he was a good friend." Frankland nodded, somewhat sadly. "Here's, er, my cell number. If I could help with Henry, give us a call." He nodded.

"I never did ask, what exactly is it that you do here?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, Mr Holmes. If I told you that I'd have to kill you!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

"That would be tremendously ambitious of you." Sherlock said with a straight face. Claudia, bored of the conversation, grabbed the car keys from Sherlock's pocket and walked to the Land Rover, getting in and switching the radio on. She watched as the boys talked, trying to calm her heart rate down after almost being caught. She wondered what Sherlock would have done if Frankland hadn't have helped them.

A couple of minutes later saw the boys in the car, and Claudia driving away quickly. Claudia wound the windows down and laughed when the wind whipped her hair about. There was something oddly heart warming about listening to loud music with the wind in your hair.

Sherlock grunted and turned his coat collar up.

"Oh, please, can we not do that?" John sighed from the back.

"Do what?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh, I know! Being all mysterious with your cheekbones and your turning your coat collar up so you look cool." Claudia grinned. Sherlock glared at her.

"I do not do that." He said after fumbling for the right words.

"Yeah, you do." John informed him, and Claudia reached across, taking her hands from the wheel and turning his collar back down.

"For God's sake!" He yelled. "Watch the road!"

As the group walked up to the large house, which could easily have been titled a mansion, they observed their surroundings. Sherlock, obviously better than the others. To Claudia, it was obvious that the inhabitant didn't have time to tend to his garden, as it was overgrown and the paint of the house needed a touch up. But it had a sort of rustic charm, and if it was Claudia's house, she wouldn't change it either. And it just so happened that the owner of the house was Henry.

He opened the door to them and let them in, and John looked surprised at the inside. Modern and new, with lots of unnecessary rooms, apparently.

"This is, uh, are you..." John trailed as Henry quickly led them through his house. "Rich?" He concluded.

"Yeah." Henry said without a thought.

"Right." John nodded smoothly, as Henry took them to the kitchen.

"Nice to see you again, Claudia." Henry smiled at her, and she smiled back. Sherlock glowered at the man, but Henry didn't actually see it.

Henry made them coffee, and then began to explain new information he had remembered.

"It's a couple of words. It's what I keep seeing. 'Liberty'," He began. John noted it down. "And 'in.' It's just that." He explained.

"Mean anything to you?" John asked Sherlock quietly, as Henry cleaned up his kitchen. Claudia wasn't even listening to them, she was elsewhere, looking around the rustically charming yet impossibly modern house.

"Liberty in death." Sherlock replied, putting two sugars in his coffee. "Isn't that the expression? The only true freedom." He shrugged. John nodded in agreement.

"What now, then?" Henry asked.

"Sherlock's got a plan." John assured him, glancing at the detective nervously.

"This house is amazing, Henry! You got a little beauty here." Claudia grinned as she walked into the kitchen and snatched Sherlock's coffee. She poured milk into it and made it her own. Sherlock glared at her.

"Thank you. I'll give you a thorough tour later, if you want?" Henry suggested nervously, with a small smile.

"Yes! Some rooms were locked." Claudia frowned.

"Well, maybe I keep secre-" Henry tried to flirt, but his voice faltered due to his nerves.

"I spat in that." Sherlock suddenly interrupted, staring intently at his coffee that Claudia had commandeered. He was glaring at Henry

"No you didn't." Claudia tapped his nose and sat on the chair next to him. Henry looked bemused.

"Did you know that Claudia is my wife?" Sherlock asked Henry, almost shouting, causing Henry's eyes to widen and his mouth to open. Anger was obviously his way of getting rid of jealousy. That and the possessive hand he'd placed on the small of her back.

"You're married?!" Henry exclaimed, not expecting that.

"Unfortunately, yes. I tell her once to flirt with someone, _to get information,_ and she relentlessly flirts with every other man." Sherlock mocked, glaring at the laughing girl next to him.

"Shut up." She told him smoothly. "You're lowering the IQ of the entire room." She grinned.

"The plan?" Henry suddenly awkwardly asked, feeling as if he was interrupting on a private moment between the two.

"We take you back out onto the moor..." Sherlock began. "And see if anything attacks you." He concluded, causing John to splutter and Claudia to raise an eyebrows.

"What?!" John demanded.

"That should bring things to a head." Sherlock smiled.

"At night? You want him to go out there at night?" Claudia demanded, and Henry smiled thankfully at her for understanding the dilemma he was faced with.

"Mm." Sherlock nodded.

"That's your plan? Brilliant!" John exclaimed sarcastically and Sherlock simply glared at him.

"Listen, if there is a monster out there, there's only one thing to do: Find out where he lives." Sherlock said, turning to Henry and smiling widely at him. Sherlock took his coffee back and drank it, despite the milk.

Henry had taken them to the Hollow, at night time, like Sherlock had suggested. They all had flash lights, and although Claudia had simply refused to go at first, Sherlock had soon convinced her to go with promises of ceasing his late night violin playing.

Claudia flinched as they heard yet more foxes screaming in the distance. She swore she heard something rustling behind her, and she turned to look, eyes wide as she flashed her torch along plants and rocks. John was doing the same, scanning his torch further into the distance to try and spot something, _anything_, that could explain what this 'Hound' was.

"Sher-" Claudia began, only to realise that Sherlock and Henry had left her and John behind. In the foggy and misty Hollow, with a Hound on the prowl. "They've bloody gone." Claudia muttered, and they both shone their torches in the general direction of Sherlock and Henry, but they could see no traces of the men.

John sighed and turned back around, only to have his attention enraptured by a series of flashing lights. A code, of some sort. Morse code. John recognised it straight away and began noting the letters down that had been flashed. Claudia watched him curiously.

"U... M... Q... R... A..." John muttered, and the lights stopped flashing.

"Umqra?" Claudia asked. John shrugged, putting his book away.

"We'll find Sherlock and tell him. Come on." He said, gripping her arm to lead her away and make sure she didn't disappear too.

"Sherlock!"John called. They walked onwards, stumbling through the twigs and roots and leaves on the ground.

"Well, this is exciting." Claudia said sarcastically, and John sniggered.

As they walked further on, they heard a dull metallic drumming sound. They both immediately flashed their torches in that direction to find a metallic container being dripped on by water. John sighed with relief, smirking at it. They'd thought it was something else, something a lot more scarier than an old rusty metal bin.

They both turned and hurried to find the others again.

"Can we not just get a cab back to the Inn?" Claudia sighed. "I'm sure they'll find their way back." She said nonchalantly. John grinned, his hand still gently on her arm to lead her through the woods and trees.

"That's your husband you're talking about. He could be getting mauled by a super hound." John joked, and Claudia smirked despite that thought actually worrying her.

Their joking stopped when they heard a loud howl ringing through the trees. They both stopped, and their breathing became significantly heavier.

"Come on." John whispered, and they began running through the Hollow, desperate to get back to Sherlock and Henry. The howl sounded again just as they half slid and half fell down a hill, only to bump into Sherlock, who looked shaken but steady. Henry was in panic mode.

"Did you hear that?" Claudia called, as they walked down. Sherlock stormed past her, angry at _something. _She watched him, worried, and ran to catch up. She grabbed his arm and linked it through hers. "Did you hear it, though?" She asked.

"Yes." He simply said, not shrugging her arm off but not showing any returning affection.

"We saw it. We saw it." Henry panicked from behind.

"No. I didn't see anything." Sherlock insisted.

"What?" Henry demanded, chasing after them. Claudia stopped and dropped Sherlock's arm, choosing to comfort Henry instead, who was obviously distressed. She put an arm around his shoulder as they walked.

"It's all right." She assured him.

"What are you talking about?" Henry continued, shouting at Sherlock.

"I didn't. See. Anything." Sherlock snapped, and he hurried onwards, his eyes vaguely brushing over Claudia's arm around Henry and narrowing.

When John and Claudia returned from comforting Henry at his mansion, they found Sherlock sat on one of the couches in front of the fire, sipping what looked to be whiskey.

"He's manic." Claudia told Sherlock, sitting on the couch next to him and taking his hand, absently playing with his fingers as he did to hers so many times. "Convinced there's a super mutant dog roaming the moors." She said, smiling softly at John who took the seat opposite.

"And there isn't, though, is there?" John asked, staring at Sherlock who was much paler than normal, and his face was full of distress. "Cause if people knew how to make a mutant super dog, we'd know." John insisted.

Sherlock took his hand back, gasped and clasped his hands in front of his face, closing his eyes and continuing to breathe heavily. He looked like he was going to have a panic attack.

"They'd be for sale. I mean, that's how it works." John continued. Claudia looked awkwardly between the two, not wanting to offend Sherlock if she asked what was wrong.

"Um, we spotted Morse signalling in the Hollow." Claudia brought up, and John nodded.

"Doesn't seem to make much sense." He added, watching as Sherlock blinked rapidly, as if fending off tears. He pulled in a sharp breath and exhaled deeply, too.

" A." John continued. "Does that mean.. Anything... To you?" He asked, worried about his friend. Finally.

"Henry's right." Sherlock gasped, blowing out another shaky breath.

"What?" Claudia asked gently, pouring him another whiskey and handing it to him. He took it with shaking hands. "Sherlock, what's wrong?" She asked, sitting up and cocking her head so he was forced to look at her.

"I saw it too." Sherlock said in a shaking voice. Claudia looked confused, watching him intently.

"Just... Just a minute. You saw what?" John asked, leaning forwards.

"A hound, out there in the Hollow." Sherlock spat, his face contorted with self-hatred as he admitted it. "A gigantic hound." He hissed.

John almost laughed, but Claudia was worried. Very worried. Sherlock looked away, trying his best to blink away his tears.

"Um, look Sherlock, we have to be rational about this, okay? Now you, of all people, can't just.." John trailed, in disbelief.

"Tell me." Claudia said, simply watching him. Sherlock blew out his breath again, looking to the ceiling and trying to get a hold of himself. He took a sip of his whiskey and nearly spilt it with his shaking hands. He was even paler than he had been minutes before.

"Once you've ruled out the impossible, whatever remains- however improbable- must be true." Sherlock explained.

"What does that mean?" John demanded.

"Look at me. Claudia, I'm afraid." He admitted, finally looking her in the eye. He could tell by her clenched jaw and her sympathetic eyes that it was almost hurting her to see him that way. He laughed at himself.

"Sherlock?" Claudia asked, her voice quiet and gentle.

"Always been able to keep myself distant. Keep myself from feelings. But, you.. My body is betraying me. Claudia, you... This is your fault." He told her harshly, slamming his glass onto the table.

"What?" She asked, sitting up straight at the accusation. John grimaced. Not good.

"You've given me feelings, Claudia. You've damaged me." He hissed, blowing out more breaths and trying to get a hand of himself. Claudia glared at him.

"And tell me, please, how the Hell is this my fault if you've started _feeling_ again?" She demanded.

"Look, you've been pretty wired lately. You know you have. I think you've just gone out there and got yourself a bit worked up." John said lightly, not wanting a full blown argument in the middle of the Inn.

"Worked... Up?" Sherlock demanded.

"It was dark and scary." John nodded, and Claudia sat back in her chair, arms folded, fuming.

"Me?! There's nothing wrong with me." Sherlock insisted.

"Oh, believe me. There is." Claudia muttered, grabbing his whiskey and drinking it herself.

Sherlock looked away, almost hyperventilating, putting his fingers to his temple and groaning with the pain of it all.

"Sherlock..." John tried.

"THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH ME!" Sherlock yelled. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"

Claudia casually looked around at the people sat around them, now all staring in their direction

"You want me to prove it yes?" He asked. "We're looking for a dog, yes, a great big dog, that's your brilliant theory. Good, excellent, yes. Where shall we start?" He asked. "How about them?" He asked, gesturing to a middle aged man and an older woman sat at a table. "The sentimental widow and her son, the unemployed fisherman. The answer's yes." Sherlock said, his voice low and calculating.

"Yes?" John asked.

"She's got a West Highland terrier called Whiskey. Not exactly what we're looking for." Sherlock snapped.

"Oh, for God's sake Sherlock." Claudia snapped.

"Look at the jumper he's wearing. Hardly worn. Clearly he's uncomfortable in it. Maybe it's because of the material; more likely the hideous pattern, suggesting it's a present, probably Christmas. So he wants into his mother's good books. Why? Almost certainly money. He's treating her to a meal but his own portion is small. That means he wants to impress her, but he's trying to economise on his own food." Sherlock ranted.

"Well, maybe he's just not hungry." John said in an irritated manner.

"No, small plate. Starter. He's practically licked it clean. She's nearly finished her pavlova. If she'd treated him, he'd have had as much as he wanted. He's hungry all right, and not well off – you can tell that by the state of his cuffs and shoes. "How d'you know she's his mother?" Who else would give him a Christmas present like that? Well, it could be an aunt or an elder sister, but mother's more likely. Now, he _was_ a fisherman. Scarring pattern on his hands, very distinctive – fish hooks. They're all quite old now, which suggests he's been unemployed for some time. Not much industry in this part of the world, so he's turned to his widowed mother for help. "Widowed?" Yes, obviously. She's got a man's wedding ring on a chain round her neck – clearly her late husband's and too big for her finger. She's well-dressed but her jewellery's cheap. She could afford better, but she's kept it – it's sentimental. Now, the dog: tiny little hairs all over the leg from where it gets a little bit too friendly, but no hairs above the knees, suggesting it's a small dog, probably a terrier. In fact it _is_ – a West Highland terrier called Whisky. "How the hell do you know that, Sherlock?" 'Cause she was on the same train as us and I heard her calling its name and that's not cheating, that's listening, I use my senses, John, unlike _some _people, so you see, I _am_ fine, in fact I've never been better, so just _Leave. Me. Alone._" Sherlock hissed, glaring at them both.

"Yeah." Claudia said, staring at him with what can only be described as shock. She was clearly agitated by her husbands lack of finesse, and his apparent hatred of them both.

"And why would you listen to us? We're just your friends." She told him, her voice dangerously low.

"I don't have friends." Sherlock retorted.

"Nah. Wonder why?" John asked sarcastically, and the two of them stood up to leave.

Before Claudia could even make a move, Sherlock had grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the couch. She sat down with a thud, not able to do much else. He suddenly kicked his feet up at the end of the couch and laid his head in her lap.

"What do you want me to do?" Claudia demanded. "Comfort you when you've shown just how much you fucking despise me?" She spat. "Get off me."

Sherlock didn't. Claudia tried to calm herself down by looking at his once again vulnerable and tear stained face. It worked. Her heart panged.

"I don't despise you." He said quietly.

"You've changed your tune." She replied. "One minute ago, you were all like, _'Ooh, I don't have friends.'_" She said in a deeper voice, causing his grimace to lift slightly. "And now you're all '_I don't despise you.'_" She imitated his voice again.

"Please." He asked quietly. "I need you." He admitted.

Claudia groaned, but the mere sight of his tears made her melt. "You'll be the death of me." She assured him, finally touching him and running her fingers through his hair.

She leaned down and gently pressed her lips to his shaking ones, and then sat back, watching the fire roar in the fireplace and feeling Sherlock shaking in her lap.

**Ooh, I liked writing this one! Especially the ending! A small episode of 'Sherlock's Jealousy' and his rather large episode of 'Let's ruin my only friendship!'**

**Ah, well. I'd still love him. And come on, as if Claudia would really be able to resist a crying Sherlock. It's like a puppy. Or a baby otter!**

**Anyway, I found out today that in a couple of weeks I'm going to Greece for ten days! My parents have been keeping it a secret, and have been waiting for me to sit my final exam and tell me as a sort of 'well done in not collapsing with the stress of your exams' present! **

**And yes, you read correctly. I had my last exam today. Phew. It's quite an odd feeling, but I feel so much better now. **

**But obviously, the bad news is that when I'm in Greece, I'll be in the pool or the beach and consequently won't be doing any writing. I'm contemplating taking my laptop, but it might not happen. So ten loooong days without me. Will you cope? I hope so.**

**Comment people!**

**-Fay xox**


	15. Terror at Baskerville

"Come on." Sherlock suddenly said, quickly snapping out of his emotional state and sitting up out of Claudia's lap.

"Where are we going?" She asked. He didn't reply, he simply took her hand and led her to a table, where a couple was drinking champagne and toasting something.

"Excuse me. Me and my wife would greatly appreciate it if you could move." Sherlock said, pretending to be pleasant. The couple seemed to notice Sherlock's desperate urgency and his tear stained face, and the fact that he was shaking, and his pale face, and they stood up. That's not to say that they didn't glare at the couple.

"Sorry." Claudia muttered, not understanding why they couldn't have just sat at any table. "Why are we sitting here?" She hissed as they took their seats.

"You. Eat." Sherlock ordered, taking the menu and passing it to her. "I chose these seats because we're in the heart of the restaurant. You were shivering- you're cold. The fire is close to us- you'll warm up. I can watch people and calm down, which is something I obviously need to do. You can relax, I can calm down, and also- we have a nice view." He said, gesturing to the window where they could see the rolling hills. Claudia raised her eyebrows delicately and watched him, unaware that she was treading on egg shells around the unstable man who was urgently glancing at the people around them.

"I don't believe in 'nice views.'" Claudia said quietly as she scanned the menu. Vegetarian, of course.

"Me neither, but others do." He explained. "Oh, there's no point you looking at that." He snapped, "We both know you're going to order a pasta dish. The only Italian and vegetarian pasta dish that this restaurant would offer is vegetarian lasagne. I know that's what you're going to have." Sherlock told her, snatching the menu back and putting it in its holder.

"Sherlock. I'm this close to walking away." She warned, gesturing a tiny amount with her fingers. She was telling the truth- she was on the edge of either slapping him or hugging him.

The waitress walked over and smiled, her pad at her ready.

"Are we ready to order?" She asked.

"I'll have the risotto and he'll have the lasagne." Claudia smiled, and the waitress bustled off. Claudia smiled sarcastically at Sherlock.

"You did that to annoy me." He claimed.

"Obviously. But, guess what?" She whispered, leaning in.

"What?" He demanded. She laughed.

"You were wrong." She told him, gently kissing him and leaning back. "And you need to eat. You're in shock, you need energy. And yes, I know. No eating on a case, but I'll leave you all on your own and find John if you don't eat it." She claimed, turning around and snatching a bottle of red wine from the table behind them when the solitary diner on the table wasn't looking.

"Thief." Sherlock told her, watching as she poured the wine for them both and then put the bottle back, without the man even noticing. "It's my duty to catch thieves, Claudia. I could have you arrested." He told her lazily.

"Sherlock Holmes- are you flirting with me?" Claudia grinned. Sherlock looked down, embarrassed. Claudia laughed at him, only causing him more embarrassment. A woman walked past their table, knocking it slightly as she did so. Sherlock looked up and watched the woman go, and Claudia knew he was analysing her and deducing hundreds of things in mere seconds. She watched him curiously.

When she'd left his sight, he got his phone out and sent a text.

_Henry's therapist currently in Cross Keys Pub -S_

"Who is she?" Claudia asked, tucking her legs under her chair.

"Henry's therapist." He explained. Claudia decided against asking him how he knew that, and opted for changing the conversation away from Henry.

"Are you, er, feeling okay now?" She asked him gently, kicking him gently.

"Yes." He said quickly, looking up at her with determined eyes. She nodded and smiled.

"I'm sure there's a logical explanation for it. Just don't go doubting yourself, because then we'll never figure it out." She told him, laughing dryly. "Me and John are hardly going to crack the case without you. We're not nearly as intelligent enough." She grinned, trying to make him feel better.

"Yes you are." He said quickly. Claudia raised an eyebrow, amused. "Maybe not." He allowed. She guffawed, and he laughed too, his eyes crinkling around the edges when he did so. He insulted them every single day, why would he stop just because she'd comforted him?

_So? _John texted back.

_Interview her? Sherlock replied, almost instantly._

_WHY SHOULD I?_

Sherlock cleared his throat and handed his phone to Claudia.

"What?" She asked warily, not taking the phone and glaring at him. "I'm not doing it." She insisted, without even knowing what she was being asked to do.

"Do I have to beg?" He sighed. Claudia nodded. He sighed dramatically. "Darling _angel_, you are the air that I _breathe_ and the owner of my heart. Do this for me and I will show you just how much I _adore_ you." He said in his deep voice, looking into her eyes and leaning forwards. She crumbled a little, and Sherlock noticed that it had worked. Almost instantly, her breath had hitched, her pupils had dilated and she grew a degree hotter. "Take a picture of Henry's therapist." He ordered.

She sighed and stood up, snatching the phone from his grasp and bending down, her face mere inches from his neck."Why me?" She hissed in his ear as her hair swooped down and rested on his shoulder.

And maybe it was the fact that Sherlock was in shock, but everything that happened to Claudia moments before happened to him too, just at the contact with Claudia and the smell of her hair. His breath hitched, his pupils dilated and his temperature minutely increased. Not that Claudia noticed.

"Because if she catches me, I'll be called a pervert. Pretend you're taking a call." He told her, and she sighed and walked away.

He smirked slightly when he watched her slowly walk to the bar where the therapist was sat, and lean against in nonchalantly. She casually glanced behind her and looked worriedly at Sherlock. How the Hell was she supposed to do this? She cleared her throat and turned back around, pretending to receive a call on Sherlock's phone. She held the camera in the direction of the therapist and took a few photos, hoping that one of them would be a good capture.

"Hello?" She said into the phone, feeling absolutely ridiculous. "I can't hear you." She said into the phone, and held it out, as if checking the signal. She then took a perfect phone. She then practically ran to the table, slamming the phone on the table and collapsing into her seat, her head in her hands.

"That was awful. She definitely noticed. Oh, God. I'm awful." She groaned to herself.

"She didn't notice." Sherlock assured her, choosing the last photo she took and sending it to John. That was why he should interview her. The woman was attractive, and that would be enough to attract John's attention- he knew it.

"You're welcome, by the way." Claudia snapped, looking up from her hands.

"Thank you, _darling._" He smirked, leaning forwards and kissing her cheek.

The next morning, Sherlock woke up early in bed with Claudia. He watched her for a moment- noticing that when she exhaled, a few hairs around her face blew up and then back down. He brushed them away and got out of bed. She woke up when she felt the bed move, and sat up groggily.

"What time is it?" She asked, tired. Sherlock checked the alarm clock.

"Half seven." He told her, and she groaned.

"Can we not sleep for a bit more?" She begged, collapsing back into her pillow and closing her eyes.

"You can." Sherlock said, already changed and about to leave their hotel room.

"Oi! Where are you going?" Claudia demanded, calling him back into the room. He looked at her, almost manically for a second.

"I've figured it out. I'm going to Henry's house." He told her, putting his coat on and leaving, letting the door slam behind him.

"For God's sake." Claudia said, getting out of bed too and looking in the mirror. "Oh, my God." She said, upon noticing the small dark red bruise on her neck. She grimaced and knew she'd be wearing her jacket buttoned up for the rest of the day. She'd been slag tagged. "Bloody Sherlock, acting like a teenager." She muttered as she got out her makeup to try and cover it. "Can tell he's never had a relationship before, not understanding how inappropriate this is." She hissed as she put concealer over it. "Thought I'd gotten over that stage in my life where I have to cover up _**love **_**bites.**" She shouted quietly at herself, prodding it and wincing. "He's a man child." She concluded.

Ten minutes later, and Claudia was setting off after Sherlock to get to Henry's house. She didn't want Henry to have to deal with him alone. That was never a good idea, especially with Henry being so fragile.

Luckily, Henry's _mansion_ wasn't too far from the inn they were staying at. Walking distance, anyway. She got there in under ten minutes.

She walked in without knocking and followed the sound of raised voices. "Sherlock." She called, and found them both in the kitchen.

"Claudia." Henry said, surprised.

"How are you?" She asked. "I followed him." She explained, pointing at the consulting detective who was rummaging through the cupboards, pulling out coffee and sugar. When Henry and Claudia both weren't looking, Sherlock slipped something into his pocket.

"Listen... Last night..." Henry began to say. Sherlock gave him an awful attempt at a kindly smile that made both Claude and Henry frown. "Why did you say you hadn't seen anything? I mean, I only saw the hound for a minute, but..." Henry trailed.

Sherlock was putting heaps of coffee in the three mugs he'd taken out, and suddenly stopped and stared at Henry.

"Hound." Sherlock said.

"What?" Claudia asked, irritated.

"Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?" Sherlock demanded, and Henry looked confused.

"Why? What do you mean?" He asked, his eyes suddenly showing just how tired he was.

"It's odd, isn't it? Strange choice of words. Archaic. It's why I took the case. 'Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound.' Why say 'hound'?" Sherlock rambled.

"I don't know! I..." Henry insisted, getting panicked again.

"Actually, we'd better skip the coffee." Sherlock nodded at Claudia and practically dragged her out of the kitchen, causing Henry to sigh.

John was walking through the church graveyard, casually flicking through the notes he'd made of the case. He occasionally looked up and glanced at some of the larger and more impressive memorials the graveyard had to offer, and even sat on the steps of the one of them.

He stopped looking through his book when he saw Sherlock jump over the kissing gate and make his way over, followed by Claudia. John stood and tucked his hands into his pocket, things still awkward about the previous nights argument.

"Did you, er, get anywhere with that Morse code?" Sherlock asked, also awkwardly.

"No." John said, stepping away. Claudia easily skipped over and fell into step with him.

"What do you think it is?" She asked, linking arms with him.

"Dogging." He replied, and as much as she tried to stop her laughing, she couldn't.

"What about Louise Mortimer? Did you get anywhere with her?" Sherlock asked, following them and asking about the woman Claudia had taken a photo of.

"No." John replied, in a clearly awful mood.

"Too bad. Did you get any information?" Sherlock then asked. John smiled briefly and glanced at the detective.

"You being funny now?" He demanded, continuing to walk with his arm linked through Claudia's.

"Thought it might break the ice a bit." Sherlock admitted, smiling at his own joke.

"Funny doesn't suit you. I'd stick to ice." John nodded sincerely, and Claudia sighed. Sherlock looked at John, his face showing his pained emotions.

"John..." Claudia said, wanting them to resolve their issues.

"It's fine, Claudia. He made himself clear last night. I don't know why you've been sticking with him to be honest." He told her, and she sighed again.

"No, wait." Sherlock called. "What happened last night..." He began. "Something happened to me; something I've not really experienced before..."

"Yes, you said. Fear. Sherlock Holmes got scared. You said." John nodded, getting annoyed again. Sherlock caught them both up again, taking hold of John's free arm and turning him around. Claudia turned too, and dropped her arm, feeling the most awkward of the pair.

"No. It was more than that, John. It was doubt. I felt doubt. I've always been able to trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes, until last night." Sherlock explained.

"You can't actually believe that you saw some kind of monster." John smirked, and Claudia agreed with him.

"No. I can't believe that." Sherlock agreed too. "But I did see it. So the question is- how?"

"Yes. Yeah, right. Good. So you've got something to go on, then? Good luck with that. We're going home, Claudia." John said, taking her arm again and walking away.

"Bye!" Claudia called to her husband, waving jovially at him and keeping up with her brother.

"Listen, what I said before, Watson's. I meant it." Sherlock called, and they both stopped. "I don't have friends." He said. Claudia glared at him. Besides, she wasn't even a Watson anymore.

"I've just got two." Sherlock assured them both, and Claudia grinned. She watched John, as he looked away and nodded briefly.

"Right." John said, unbelieving.

"Aw, John. Just look at his daft little face. He means it." Claudia cooed. Sherlock glared at her comment. John shrugged and pulled her away again.

Sherlock seemed to realise something in that moment and chased after them. "John!" He exclaimed. "You are amazing! You are fantastic!" He insisted.

"Yes, all right! You don't have to overdo it." John said, embarrassed.

"You've never been the most luminous of people, but as conductor of light you are unbeatable." Sherlock grinned, catching them up and walking in line with them.

"Cheers... What?" John demanded, realising his insult. Sherlock took out his own notebook and began writing it in himself.

"Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others." Sherlock explained. "Like my Watson's." He added.

"I'm not a Watson." Claudia reminded him.

"I know." Sherlock replied.

"Hang on, you were apologizing a minute ago." John spoke up, wondering how the conversation changed so quickly. "Don't spoil it. Go on: What have I done that's so bloody stimulating?" John asked. Claudia grimaced at the way he put it.

Sherlock showed them both his notepad. HOUND.

"Hound." Claudia read, looking up at Sherlock for help. He nodded at her and took his pad back, making dots on the paper.

"What if it's not a word? What if it is individual letters?" He asked, showing them his edited word. H.O.U.N.D

"You think it's an acronym?" John asked, as they walked into the pub.

"Absolutely no idea, but... What the hell are you doing here?" He suddenly demanded as he spied the silver fox lounging by the bar. The Silver Fox being Lestrade.

"Well, nice to see you too! I'm on holiday." Lestrade insisted unconvincingly.

"No, you're not." Sherlock replied, in a mood.

"Hello John, Claudia." Lestrade smiled at the siblings.

"Greg!" John exclaimed. Claudia simply smiled, and hopped onto a barstool.

"I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?" Lestrade asked casually.

"I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?" Sherlock demanded, eyes narrowed.

"I've told you. I'm on holiday." Greg claimed.

"You're brown as a nut. You're clearly just back from your holidays." Sherlock mimicked.

"Yeah, well. I fancied another one." He shrugged.

"Oh, this is Mycroft, isn't it?" Sherlock demanded, and Claudia giggled slightly.

"No, look..." Lestrade tried.

"Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to... To spy on me incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself _Greg_?" Sherlock sneered.

"That's his name." Claudia frowned, staring at him oddly.

"Is it?" Sherlock asked, bemused.

"Yes, if you'd ever bothered to find out. Look, I'm not your handler. And I don't just do what your brother tells me." Lestrade insisted, although they all knew that that wasn't true.

"Actually, you could be the man we want." John nodded.

"Why?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow- copying his brother, maybe.

"Well, I've not just been idle, Sherlock. I think I might have found something." John said, rummaging in his pockets and pulling out the meat sales invoice from Undershaw Meat Supplies and handing it to Sherlock, who then smiled.

As the small group discussed their next tactics in the pub, Sherlock cautiously carried over two cups of coffee to the table. The owners of the inn were sat with them- Billy and Gary. Supposed vegetarians.

"What's this?" John asked, looking up at the detective warily. Claudia looked disturbed too when he set one down in front of her.

"Coffee. I made coffee." Sherlock replied.

"You never make coffee." Claudia insisted, curiously worried about what he could have done to it.

"I just did, _dear._" He said sarcastically. "Don't you want it?" He then asked, sounding hurt and making them both feel guilty for being suspicious of him.

"You don't have to keep apologizing." John sighed, taking the cup and setting it down in front of him. Lestrade smirked at their conversation and unusual mannerisms around each other. "Thanks." John sighed when Sherlock made a deal of looking upset again. Sherlock smiled and sat down.

Claudia grimaced, as did John, but for different reasons.

"I don't take sugar." John said.

"Yeah, I can see now why you never make your own coffee." Claudia said, her face scrunched up as she spat her mouthful back into the mug and put it back down.

The hurt expression went back onto Sherlock's face, and John relented and drank his coffee despite the sugar. Claudia, however, didn't feel sorry for him and pushed the mug to him.

"Drink it yourself." She told him. The baby otter face came back, but she didn't relent, unlike her brother.

Greg cleared his throat to get their attention. "These records go back nearly two months." He said, turning to the two men sat sheepishly with them.

"Look, we were just trying to give things a bit of a boot, you know? A great big dog runs wild up on the moor- it was heaven sent. It was like us having our own Loch Ness Monster." Gary explained.

"Where do you keep it?" Claudia asked, very intrigued.

"There's an old mineshaft. It's not too far. It was all right there." Gary replied.

"Was?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow as he finally sat next to Claudia.

"We couldn't control the bloody thing. It was vicious." Gary sighed, "And then, a month ago, Billy took him to the vet and, er... You know" He shrugged sadly.

"It's dead?" John asked, surprised and trying not to watch as Sherlock subconsciously played with Claudia's fingers- a habit he'd taken up in the past few weeks or so.

"Put down." Gary nodded.

"Yeah. No choice. So, it's over." Billy added.

"It was just a joke, you know?" Gary asked, trying to reach the four people glaring at them.

"Yeah, hilarious!" Lestrade exclaimed angrily. He stood and glared down at them. "You've nearly driver a man out of his mind." He then snapped, and walked out of the room. John followed. Claudia smiled and removed her hand from Sherlock's, kissing his cheek before dashing after her brother. Sherlock smirked as he watched her go, and then peered into John's cup- him being the only one who'd drank any of the coffee.

When he joined the others outside the inn, Lestrade had questions for him.

"So, you believe him about having the dog destroyed?" Lestrade asked.

"No reason not to." Sherlock shrugged nonchalantly.

"Well, hopefully there's no harm done. Not quite sure what I'd charge him with, anyway. I'll have a word with the local Force." Lestrade sighed. He nodded to them all as a goodbye. "I'm enjoying this!" He exclaimed as he walked away. Claudia smiled. "It's not to get London out of your lungs!"

They watched him walk away, almost care free.

"So that was their dog that everyone saw on the Moors?" Claudia turned to Sherlock.

"Looks like it." Sherlock looked at her and nodded.

"But that wasn't what you saw. That wasn't just an ordinary dog." John then added, remembering how horrified Sherlock had been the previous night. Definitely not an ordinary dog.

"No." Sherlock agreed. "It was immense, had burning red eyes and it was glowing, John. It's whole body was glowing." He explained to them both. He shuddered and walked to the car. "We need to go to Baskerville. I've got a theory, but I need to test it." He explained. Claudia grinned and rushed to get to the drivers seat, but Sherlock held his arm out- stopping her.

"No. You drive recklessly. Something could happen to you." He said, and he got in the drivers seat himself, finally having enough of simply letting her have her way. She sulked but climbed in the back with her brother, much to Sherlock's dismay.

"How are we gonna get in? You can't pull the ID trick again." John pointed out.

"Might not have to." Sherlock said, getting his phone out. He rang a number. "Hello, brother dear. How are you?" He asked insincerely.

When they pulled into Baskerville, Sherlock handed over his own ID card and turned the car off. The guard went to check it.

"I need to see Major Barrymore as soon as we get inside." Sherlock told them quietly.

"Okay." John replied.

"In the labs; Stapleton's first." Sherlock then said. The guard brought the ID card back and handed it over.

Sherlock started the car and drove them through into Baskerville again.

Sherlock went to find Barrymore, leaving John and Claudia to hunt down Stapleton. They went in the lift and exited on the same lab that they'd been in the day before. As they walked further into the lab, the lights switched off, causing Claudia and John to subconsciously inch closer together.

They walked through to the door at the far end of the lab, and John swiped the ID card in the reader. It let them through. They walked to the end of that corridor to find another room, with cages and boxes with sheets covering them. But there seemed to be nothing of importance.

They went to leave, John swiping the card in the reader again- but it was declined. They were locked in. Suddenly, a huge bright light turned on, momentarily blinding Claudia and John, their arms covering their eyes as they winced against the night light.

"Bloody hell." Claudia muttered. They turned their heads away, wincing from the pain.

"Oh, Jesus! Ow!" John exclaimed. They opened their eyes slightly and tried to see their way around the room again. He tried the card. Declined again. As quickly as the light had turned on, an alarm blared out ridiculously loud, and insistent thing that continuously blared out into the lab.

Claudia groaned and covered her ears with her hands, as did John. He tried the card one more time, again it didn't work.

"Come on." He muttered. He glared at it, exasperated, and that was the moment when the lights turned off and the alarm stopped. They were in total darkness and an eerie silence.

"What the f..?" John muttered, taking his flashlight out and shining it around- leaving only a small beacon of light to guide them. Claudia did the same with her phone, which created even less light.

"Hello?!" She called shakily, getting a little bit worried that they'd been left behind. Odd shadows had been cast all around the lab due to the cages.

"You look for a door down there, I'll look down here." John muttered, and the pair split up.

As Claudia edgily walked down the length of the lab, a small shake beginning to take over her hands. She jumped when she heard something rattle in the cage next to her. She edged towards it and pulled the sheet off, revealing a screeching monkey trying to claw at her. She yelped and jumped back, chest heaving as her breathing accelerated.

Meanwhile, John was also throwing sheets of the cages, and he found one with the door open and bars bent slightly. Something very strong must have bent it, or broken it. He stood back, his breathing also heavy as he heard rattling and snarls coming from the cage.

"Claudia!" He called, his eyes glued to the broken cage. He heard her begin to run.

"Where are you?!" She shouted.

He set off in the direction of her voice and spotted her. He grabbed her hand and the two of them walked back to the cage.

"I'm scared." She admitted.

"Me too." John replied. He pulled her to a different door, and swiped the access card.

ACCESS DENIED.

"No, come on. Come on." He begged quietly, almost whispering. "Ring Sherlock." He told her. She did so, pressing a number on her speed dial that rang him.

"Oh, come on!" She hissed when he didn't answer. She put the phone in her pocket.

"Right." John said determined to keep them both safe. He pulled her to the middle of the room again, pulling her to a side door where he'd seen scientists walking in and out of the day before.

On their way, they heard the sound of claws on tiles. There was something running around the lab.

"Shit." John said under his breath, and Claudia whimpered slightly. Something behind them snarled, and John felt completely helpless. They heard equipment falling to the floor and and deep and heavy snarling breathing.

"Come on." Claudia whispered, and the two of them ran across the room and to the broken cage. They clambered inside and ducked down, closing the door and trying to control their breathing.

The creature growled and Claudia tried not to sob, her hand covering her mouth. John put an arm around her and the two of them waited for something to happen, cowering together.

Her phone began to ring and she quickly dug it out of her pocket, answering the call just to shut the phone up.

"It's here. It's in here with us." She said into the phone incredibly quietly.

"Where are you?" Sherlock asked, his voice resonating loudly from the phone.

"Get us out, Sherlock." John said, snatching the phone and speaking into it. "You have to get us out. The big lab: The first lab that we saw." His breathing was heavy as they heard the creature walking over to them. Claudia began crying then, the tears falling onto the metal floor of the cage. John closed his eyes.

The creature growled. Claudia sobbed and John whined, covering his mouth with his hand like Claudia was doing.

"John? Claudia?" Sherlock asked.

"Now, Sherlock. Please." Claudia whispered into the phone, putting it on speakerphone/

"All right, I'll find you. Keep talking." Sherlock told them.

"It'll hear us." Claudia cried, her hands shaking again.

"Keep talking." Sherlock repeated. "What are you seeing?" He asked. John peered through the bars of the cage. The room was so dimly lit that he couldn't see anything. "John?" Sherlock asked. The creature snarled again and Claudia scrambled back so she was leaning on the cold bars behind. Sherlock could hear her desperate moving, and he could hear her pulling back John too.

"We're here." John said softly, both of them with their backs pressed back on the cage, chests heaving, skin clammy.

"What can you see?" Sherlock asked. Claudia had her eyes shut tight, trying not to sob aloud.

"I don't know. But I can hear it." John said as the creature growled again.

"Did you hear that?!" Claudia demanded quietly, her voice high pitched.

"Stay calm, Claude. Can you see it?" Sherlock asked her. Claudia opened her eyes, and she and John both peered into the dim room beyond.

"No." John said. His eyes then widened and straightened up, dropping the phone and putting both arms around Claudia in a protective manner, so her face was pressed against his chest. His face was full of absolute horror. "I can see it." He said quietly, and Claudia began to audibly sob then. "It's here." He said flatly. The shadow he was watching with wide eyes moved closer to the cage and growled.

"Oh God." Claudia cried.

The shadow moved closer and John's grip on his sister tightened as he leant back as far as he could.

The shadow was suddenly tugged upwards and the lights turned on. Peering into the cage was Sherlock, and Claudia's piercing scream sent a shudder down his spine.

"Are you all right?" He asked worriedly. John relaxed slightly and let Claudia go, pulling at the bars and getting to his feet, running out of the cage with pent up hostility.

"Jesus Christ..." He muttered, urgently looking around the room. Claudia also jumped out, but threw her arms around Sherlock as she tried to control her breathing. He admittedly felt guilty when he wound his arms around her waist, aware that he was the reason she was terrified.

But really, it couldn't be helped.

"It was the hound, Sherlock. It was here, I swear it. It must..." John muttered as he looked around the fully lit lab. Claudia slowly let Sherlock go, also looking around. There was clearly no way a hound could have been hiding anywhere in the lab.

"It must..." Claudia said, her voice still shaking and a few tears still on her face.

"Did.. Did you see it? You must have!" John exclaimed when Sherlock shook his head.

"It's all right. It's okay now." Sherlock assured them gently.

"NO IT'S NOT!" Claudia yelled, her eyes wide. "IT'S NOT OKAY!" She screeched.

"I saw it. We saw it. We were wrong." John agreed with her.

"Well, let's not jump to conclusions." Sherlock told them, actually enjoying this part.

"What?" John demanded.

"What did you see?" Sherlock asked them both.

"We saw the hound." Claudia replied.

"Huge? Red eyes?" Sherlock asked.

"Yeah." John said.

"Glowing?" He then asked.

"Yeah." John said again.

"No." Sherlock smirked.

"What?" Claudia demanded.

"I made up the bit about glowing. You saw what you expected to see because I told you. You have been drugged. We have all been drugged." Sherlock explained, getting annoyed again.

"Drugged?" John asked, eyebrows raised.

"Can you walk?" Sherlock asked.

"Course." John replied.

"Come on then. It's time to lay this ghost."

**Sorry for my absence, guys! Not in Greece yet unfortunately, but I went to see my Dad for the weekend and forgot my laptop, so couldn't write! **

**Anyway, I thought Sherlock giving Claudia a slag tag would be funny. Like he's living that teenage part of his life because he did none of that stuff when he was actually a teenager. **

**Please comment and stuff- and I'll update as soon as I can!**

**Thanks for all the lovely things you've been saying about my exams and stuff- thank you for being understanding!**

**-Fay xox**

**PS- For those who have asked, I do intend on making Reichenbach heart wrenchingly awful, but not for the person you're all thinking... Spoilers!**


	16. The Hounds of Baskerville

When Sherlock led Claudia and John away, Claudia refused to let go of his hand. He didn't mind, for obvious reasons, he actually felt rather good knowing that he could comfort her to some extent. The way she had to him when he himself had been distraught. But, then again, she hadn't been the reason for his distress. He _was_ the reason for hers- and she was going to kill him when she found out. He just knew she would.

The three of them practically marched to Stapleton- two of them still rather shaken up about the whole ordeal that had occurred only moments before.

Stapleton looked up from the cute white rabbit she was examining as they walked into her lab.

"Oh, back again? What's on your mind this time?" She asked them.

"Murder, Doctor Stapleton. Refined, cold blooded murder." Sherlock replied, his hand still clutched in Claudia's. Stapleton smirked when she saw it, causing Sherlock to raise his chin. He suddenly switched the lights off, showing that the rabbit she was working on glowed a bright green colour. Sherlock then smirked and turned the lights back on.

"Will you tell little Kirsty what happened to Bluebell, or shall I?" Sherlock asked, smiling unpleasantly at her.

"What do yo want?" Stapleton sighed dramatically.

"Can I borrow your microscope?" Sherlock then asked. John gritted his teeth and adjusted his feet, glancing at Claudia who obviously shared his feelings of utter disbelief and confusion.

Stapleton led them to a larger lab, and let Sherlock sit at an empty desk and use a microscope. He was gazing at something that was obviously not making him happy, and none of the three observers knew what it was.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Stapleton asked both John and Claudia, who were sat down watching him. Their eyes were slightly glazed over and they were looking into the distance. "You look very peaky." The woman smiled.

"I'm okay." Claudia said.

"We're okay." John smiled unconvincingly.

"It was the GFP gene from a jellyfish, in case you're interested." Stapleton suddenly said.

"What?" Claudia frowned, glancing up from the desk and watching her.

"In the rabbits." Stapleton smiled. Claudia nodded, smiling slightly as she warmed up to the woman.

"Oh." John said.

"Aeqouria Victoria, if you really want to know." Stapleton said proudly.

"Why?" Claudia then asked, frowning again.

"Why not? We don't ask questions like that here. It isn't done." Stapleton countered.

"A nice day for morals and ethics." Claudia smiled rather nastily and stood up, walking over to Sherlock and leaning on the desk. He looked irritated with himself when he swapped slides and looked at that under the microscope too.

"There was a mix-up, anyway. My daughter ended up with one of the lab specimens, so poor Bluebell had to go." Stapleton shrugged, nonplussed by Claudia's dismissal of her life work.

"Sorry, I'm with Claudia on this one. Not a fan of animal testing. Oh, and your compassion is overwhelming." John said cynically.

"I know. I hate myself sometimes." Stapleton said, mocking him and Claudia.

"So, come on then. You can trust me. I'm a doctor. What else have you got hiding away up here?" John asked, not agreeing with it but morbidly curious.

Sherlock was getting more and more annoyed, constantly swapping slides and glancing at them, only to have to swap it again.

"Listen, if you can imagine it, someone is probably doing it somewhere. Of course they are." Stapleton shrugged. John grimaced slightly.

Sherlock was intensely watching his microscope, but his eyes briefly wandered over to Claudia, who was absently leaning on the desk next to him with a blank look on her face and a song in her head, as she was tapping her foot to a beat. She looked sad, and that fact was disturbing to Sherlock. He sighed and got back to his work.

"And cloning?" John asked meanwhile. Stapleton nodded. "Human cloning?" He then asked.

"Why not?" She asked.

"What about animals? Not sheep like Dolly. Big animals...?" John hinted.

"Size isn't a problem. Not at all. The only limits are ethics and the law, and both those things can be very flexible. But not here. Not at Baskerville." Stapleton explained, once again, proud.

Suddenly, Sherlock stood and hurled the latest slide he was working on across the lab, his hands moving to his hip as he was furious.

"It's not there!" He complained.

"Oh!" Claudia shouted as she jumped out of her reverie when she heard the slide fall to the floor. She had her left hand over her heart, and Sherlock noticed that she was wearing her engagement ring for the first time. And yet, she wasn't wearing her wedding ring. But then again, neither was he.

"Nothing there! Doesn't make any sense." Sherlock complained, beginning to pace the room.

"What are you looking for?" Stapleton asked, surprised, just as surprised as the other two.

"A drug, of course." Sherlock said. "There has to be a drug. A hallucinogenic or a deliriant of some kind. There's no trace of anything in the sugar." Sherlock explained.

"Sugar?" Claudia frowned.

"The sugar, yes. It's a simple process of elimination. I saw the hound- Saw it as my imagination expected me to see it. A genetically engineered monster. But I knew I couldn't believe the evidence of my own eyes, so there were seven possibilities for it, the most possible being narcotics. Henry Knight, he saw it too but you two didn't. You both didn't see it. Now, until then we had eaten and drunk exactly the same things since we got to Grimpton apart from one thing. Neither of you take sugar in your coffee." Sherlock explained.

"So naturally, you experimented on us." Claudia nodded sarcastically, glaring at him. He ignored her.

"I took it from Henry's kitchen. His sugar. It's perfectly all right." He spat, glaring at his microscope.

"Obviously. Your coffee was so awful that I didn't drink it. And then I saw the hound." She shrugged, and Sherlock nodded.

"Couldn't rule out the possibility until absolutely certain." Sherlock replied.

"I can't believe you found it okay to drug me and John." She spat, walking back over to John and Stapleton, who were watching nervously. Was she going to throw something at him? John hoped so. Stapleton hoped not. It was her lab, after all.

"But then how did we get it in our systems, how?" Sherlock asked, slowly raising his head but keeping his eyes closed. "There has to be something..." He said.

John and Claudia knew right away that he'd gone to his Mind Palace.

"Get out." He suddenly snapped, staring at John and Stapleton. Claudia went to leave too, but he stopped her.

"You- stay." He said, pointing at her.

"Why?" She demanded, still mad with him.

"You have a sort of calming presence." He explained. Claudia snorted. He'd pissed her off too much for her to stay, even Sherlock knew that.

"Sorry." She said, and left with John and Stapleton, just as John was explaining what was wrong with Sherlock to the doctor.

"But he said 'palace.' He said it was a palace." Stapleton told John, when he mentioned that technically, the memory technique could take place anywhere.

"Yeah, well. He's a pompous arse. Obviously he'd be in a palace." Claudia snarled as she stormed out.

"Look, Claude. You know what he's like when he's on a case. He'll do anything to help him. You should be flattered that he thought to include you." John tried but failed to reassure her.

"That hasn't helped." Claudia replied.

"Aren't you his wife?" Stapleton asked, and Claudia nodded bitterly. "She's right. He shouldn't be drugging her. Or attempting to."

"Why are you even sticking up for him? He tried to drug you too!" Claudia exclaimed, and John nodded.

"True." He said. "I suppose I'm used to it now." He shrugged, forever the voice of reason between the fire that is Claudia and the ice that is Sherlock.

Meanwhile, Sherlock had already come up with three words.

Liberty. Indiana. H.O.U.N.D.

Stapleton had led them to Major Barrymore's office, to get more information on what H.O.U.N.D was exactly. Sherlock collapsed in Barrymore's office chair, and turned to the computer. John was guarding the door, and Claudia was leaning over Sherlock's shoulder. She'd decided to keep her anger at bay until later. In fact, she was rather excited about the whole thing.

"Project Hound. Must have read about it and stored it away. An experiment by the CIA facility in Liberty, Indiana." Sherlock replied. Claudia nodded.

Stapleton leant over and inputted her username and password, giving them minor access to Barrymore's computer. Sherlock typed in 'H.O.U.N.D', but wasn't granted access.

"There must be an override and password." John said from the door.

"I imagine so. But that would be Barrymore's." Sherlock said, looking around the office he was sat in. "He sat here when he thought it up." He then told them as if expecting them to suddenly come up with the password and tell him.

He slowly span a circle in the chair as he glanced around the room, hands held in a prayer under his chin.

"Describe him to me." Sherlock said to Stapleton.

"You've seen him." Stapleton replied.

"But describe him." Sherlock ordered.

"He's a bloody martinet, a throw back, the sort of man they'd have sent into Suex." Stapleton shrugged.

"Good, excellent, old fashioned. Traditionalist. Not the sort of man that would use his children's name as a password." He said, looking at the child's drawings hung on the wall. "He loves his job, proud of it and this is work related, so what's at eye level?" He asked. He rapidly scanned the room.

"Books." Claudia suggested, looking at the small book shelf to their right.

"Hannibal, Wellington, Rommel, Churchill's History of English Speaking Peoples. All four volumes." Sherlock nodded as he scanned the books. "Churchill, well he's fond of Churchill. Copy of 'The Downing Street Years'. One, two, three, four, five separate biographies of Margaret Thatcher." Sherlock counted, and Claudia grimaced at the name. Sherlock smirked when he saw that and glanced at a photograph of Barrymore a few decades before. "Mid nineteen eighties at a guess. Father and son; Barrymore senior. Medals: Distinguished service order." He said, looking round at John.

"That date? I'd say Falklands veteran." John nodded.

"Right. So. Thatcher's looking a more likely bet than Churchill." Sherlock replied. He headed back to the computer.

"So, that's the password?" Stapleton asked, following him, as did Claudia. She leant on his shoulder again.

"No. With a man like Barrymore, only first name terms will do." Sherlock replied, going to type 'Margaret' into the password box. It wouldn't fit.

"Maggie." Claudia muttered in his ear. He typed that in instead, and it worked.

"Claudia, did I ever tell you that I'm sorry for attempting to drug you?" He asked as he was granted access to CIA documents.

"No, you didn't." Claudia replied.

"Well, I am." Sherlock told her. She could tell he didn't mean it, but it was better than nothing.

"That's okay." She said, kissing his cheek sweetly. He smiled and went to the search box again.

This time, when he typed 'H.O.U.N.D' in, he was allowed to see what came up.

John also joined them as they saw exactly what H.O.U.N.D was. It involved 'extreme suggestibility', 'fear and stimulus', 'conditioned terror' and 'aerosol dispersal'. A photograph of the project leaders appeared. Elaine Dyson, Mary Uslowski, Rick Nader, Jack O'Mara and Leonard Hansen. HOUND.

Beside him, Stapleton began to understand what was going on, finally. All of them stared in horror as more awful things came to their attention. 'Paranoia', 'Severe frontal lobe damage', 'Blood brain', 'Gross cranial trauma', 'Dangerous acceleration' and 'Multiple Homicide'. Claudia looked disgusted, John looked disturbed and Sherlock looked nonchalant.

"Jesus." John said softly.

"Project HOUND. A new deliriant drug which rendered its users incredibly suggestible. They wanted to use it as an anti-personnel weapon to totally disorientate the enemy using fear and stimulus, but they shut it down and hid it away in nineteen eighty six." Sherlock explained.

"Because of what it did to their subjects?" Claudia asked.

"Yes." Sherlock told her, looking at her. "And what they did to others. Prolonged exposure drove them insane- Made them almost uncontrollably aggressive." Sherlock continued.

"So someone's been doing it again- Carrying on the experiments?" John asked.

"Attempting to refine it, perhaps, for the last twenty years." Sherlock replied.

"Who?" Stapleton then asked. John looked at the photo of the founders of H.O.U.N.D on the screen.

"Those names mean anything to you?" John asked Stapleton, who shook her head.

"Five principal scientists, 20 years ago." Sherlock sighed. "Maybe our friends somewhere in the back of the picture- someone who was old enough to be there at the time of the experiments in 1986. Maybe somebody who said 'cell phone' because of time spent in America. You remember?" Sherlock asked John and Claudia.

They both absently nodded as Sherlock zoomed in on the picture to show a younger Doctor Frankland hiding in the back of the photo. "He gave us his number in case we needed him." Sherlock stated.

"Oh my God. Bob Frankland. But Bob doesn't even work on... I mean, he's a virologist. This was _chemical_ warfare." Stapleton insisted.

"It's where he started, though... And he's never lost the certainty. The obsession that the drug could really work. Nice of him to give us his number." Sherlock said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the card with Frankland's number on it. "Let's arrange a little meeting." He walked away, his phone at the ready.

Meanwhile, John's phone was ringing. He answered it to hear the sound of a woman sobbing.

"Hello? Who's this?" He asked urgently. Claudia watched anxiously. He quickly turned to Sherlock. "It's Louise Mortimer. Louise, what's wrong?" He asked her. "What? Where- Where are you? Right. Stay there. We'll get someone to get you, okay?" He hung up the phone and began texting.

"What's happened, what's wrong?" Claudia asked, her arms folded across her chest.

"He's attacked her. Henry's attacked her and he's got a phone." John said through gritted teeth.

"Where is he?" Claudia then asked.

"Gone." Sherlock spoke up. Sherlock hit speed dial on his phone. "There's only one place he'll go to. Back to where it all started. Lestrade. Get to the Hollow. Dewer's Hollow, now. And bring a gun." He said into his phone. He hung up with an excited smile to Claudia who tried to return it to keep his spirits high but failed to.

When they reached the Hollow, they saw Henry put his gun into his mouth and squeeze his eyes shut tight. He was going to kill himself.

"Henry!" Claudia shrieked. "Stop!" She cried, running ahead of the men anxiously. Henry looked at her, surprised. He stood and stumbled backwards, waving his gun around at their direction. His voice was hysterical, showing how unstable he was.

"Get back." Henry shuddered. "Get away from me!" He yelled.

"Easy, Henry. Claudia, get back. Just relax." John called, grabbing Claudia's hand and pulling her behind him.

"I know what I am. I know what I tried to do!" Henry cried, eyes scrunched up with pain.

"Put the gun down, Henry. It's okay." Claudia soothed, stepping back out and holding her hand out for the gun.

"No, I know what I am!" Henry stressed.

"Yes, I'm sure you do, Henry. It's all been explained to you, hasn't it? Explained very carefully." Sherlock said, also trying to soothe him but failing miserably. He didn't have the feminine touch like Claudia.

"What?" Henry sobbed, confused.

"Someone needed you to be quiet. Needed to keep you as a child to reassert the dream that you'd both clung on to, because you had started to remember." Sherlock said quietly. He stepped closer to Henry, as did Claudia, her hand still outstretched for the gun.

"I thought it had got my Dad- the hound. I thought..." Henry stumbled through his words. He lost control of himself and yelled in anguish again. He bent forwards and put the muzzle of the gun in his mouth again.

"Henry!" Claudia called, lurching towards him slightly, as did John.

"Henry, remember. Liberty in. Two words, two words a frightened little boy saw here twenty years ago." Sherlock said urgently.

"It's okay." Claudia soothed again, and Henry began to calm down slightly.

"You'd started to piece things together, remember what really happened here that night. It wasn't an animal, was it, Henry?" Sherlock asked him, edging ever closer to the unstable man. Henry straightened slightly, blinking as he started to recall the facts.

"Not a monster." Sherlock told him insistently. "A man."

Henry's eyes widened as memories flooded back to him. He realised the truth. It hadn't been a hound at all, it was a man. In a gas mask, killing his father through cold blood and the threat of whistle blowing. Henry watched with wide eyes as Sherlock continued revealing the truth.

"You couldn't cope. You were just a child, so you rationalised it into something very different. But then you started to remember, so you had to be stopped; driven out of your mind so that no one would believe a word that you said." The man continued.

Quietly, Claudia stepped forwards and took the gun from Henry's hands, throwing it on the floor behind her so he couldn't snatch it back. Behind her, Lestrade had arrived, armed to the teeth it appeared.

Henry slowly collapsed to the floor, crying as he realised the truth. Claudia went with him, arms around his shoulders as she soothed him. She rocked him as he cried, and murmured soothing things to him.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade yelled.

"But we saw it, the hound, last night. We saw, we did... We saw it." Henry stuttered to Claudia.

"Yeah, but there was a dog, Henry. Leaving footprints, scaring witnesses. But it was nothing more than an ordinary dog. We both saw it- saw it as our drugged minds wanted us to see it. Fear and stimulus, that's how it worked." Sherlock explained, and Henry shuddered slightly at the harsh words. Henry started at Sherlock in confusion still, with Claudia's arms around his shoulders.

"But there never was a monster, was there Sherlock?" Claudia asked quietly.

And that was when they heard it. An ear-splitting howl ringing through the trees .Everyone turned to the top of the trees where the howl originated, and they could see a low shape snarling, with bright red eyes.

"Sherlock." John said, worried. Sherlock stared in disbelief at the hound, snarling at them amongst the trees.

"No." Henry said quietly, and he began to wail with panic. They'd lied to him.

"Henry, it's okay." Claudia tried to comfort him, but the waver in her voice displayed her own personal terror.

"Shit!" Lestrade yelled as they spotted it, glowing eyes glaring down at them.

"Greg, are you seeing this?" John asked, not wanting to believe it unless the others saw it too. Greg glanced at John momentarily and his expression answered the question.

"Not meaning to be a nuisance, but can we please do something quickly?" Claudia asked, as she and Henry stood. Henry was crying still, and Claudia wasn't far off.

"Right, he is not drugged Sherlock, so what's that? What is it?" John demanded angrily.

Sherlock screwed his eyes shut, trying to think about what possibly could have happened so that they were all seeing the hound clearly in front of them.

"All right! It's still here..." Sherlock panted slightly, trying to pull himself together. He broke down again a little when he heard Claudia's muffled cry, and he felt guilty for putting her through that. "But it's just a dog, Henry! It's nothing more than an ordinary dog." He insisted, as if trying to convince himself.

The hound raised its head and howled to the moon.

"Oh my God." Lestrade mumbled, stumbling backwards. Claudia reached behind her and picked up Henry's gun that she'd thrown to the ground, thinking she might need it in the future.

"I'm scared." Claudia admitted to Sherlock, who'd taken a somewhat protective stance in front of her, one hand held behind him to reassure himself that she was still there.

John was staring at the hound, it's mouth opening to reveal a huge set of enormous pointed teeth. It snarled at them, and it was utterly terrifying. Henry was still in arms reach of Claudia, and he was staring at it with wide eyes. It was as if he'd come to terms with the fact that it was going to kill him.

Sherlock suddenly turned around, almost face to face with Claude if she was a bit taller. There was somebody else there. The man was wearing a gas mask and had a visor on too. Sherlock immediately began chasing him, grabbing his mask and pulling it up, revealing the manic grinning face of Moriarty.

"No!" Sherlock exclaimed in absolute horror.

"What?!" Claudia asked, rushing over. "But we knew it was him!" She said, not sure as to why Sherlock was so scared.

Sherlock watched as Moriarty's expression turned from manic happiness to the quiet rage of a mad man. And then it contorted into someone else's face in a blur. Sherlock groaned as he thought Moriarty was about to kill him. He flinched slightly at the constant contortions.

"It's not you! You're not here!" Sherlock yelled. Grabbing the figure, Sherlock stopped him and headbutted him, stopping the contortions and making everything return still again. The figure crumpled slightly, and Sherlock realised that the figure was not Moriarty. It was Bob Frankland.

"The fog." Sherlock suddenly had a moment of pure clarity, and maybe it was due to Claudia's supportive hand on his shoulder or the fact that Moriarty's face had disappeared. "It's the fog! The drug, it's in the fog! Aerosol dispersal- That's what it said in those records. Project HOUND, it's the fog! A chemical minefield!" Sherlock exclaimed.

Greg instantly covered his face with his arm, to try and keep the compact fog out of his system.

"For God's sake, kill it!" Frankland yelled, referring to the hound that was still approaching them from up on the moor.

The hound made its way to attack, and Greg aimed his pistol at it and shot three times. They missed the hound. John's aim was much better and clearer, and when he shot, it really hit the hound. It squealed with pain and fell to the floor with a dull thud, and Claudia sighed with relief. Sherlock left her to push Henry over to the hound forcefully, forcing him to look at it.

"Look at it, Henry." Sherlock urged.

"No!" Henry cried, digging his heels in the ground to stop them from moving him.

"Go on, Henry." Claudia called, and her voice was more urging to him. He allowed Sherlock to pull him over until they could both see it led on the ground for what it was. A large dog. Not a hound at all. It didn't have glowing red eyes. It was just a large dog.

Behind them, Frankland was holding his head still from where Sherlock butted him. Lestrade was still covering his face to stop inhaling the drug in the fog. Henry turned to Frankland, finally realising that it was _he_ who had killed his father, not a hound at all.

"It's just... You bastard." Henry cursed, glaring evilly at the man in front of him. He hurled himself at the doctor, screaming and yelling with rage. The rage of an orphan. "You bastard!" He yelled again. He pushed Frankland to the floor, screaming in his face and trying to punch him while John and Lestrade tried urgently to pull him away.

"Twenty years! Twenty years of my life making no sense! Why didn't you just _kill me_?!" He screamed, and he was finally pulled away from the older man.

"Because dead men get listened to." Claudia suggested, watching at the side with a mournful expression and her arms folded across her chest, mud caked in her hair and on her knees from where she'd been on the floor with Henry. Dishevelled, would be the correct word.

"He needed to do more than kill you. He had to discredit every word you ever said about your father, and he had the means right at his feet- A chemical minefield, pressure pads in the ground dosing you up every time that you came back here." Sherlock explained. He span slowly in a circle with his arms out as he gestured to the Hollow they were stood in. "Murder weapon and scene of the crime all at once." He laughed delightfully. "Oh, this case, Henry! Thank you. It's been brilliant." He said sincerely, grinning at the disturbed man.

"Sherlock..." John warned.

"What?" He asked, oblivious.

"Timing." John and Claudia both said quietly.

"Not good?" He then asked, frowning slightly.

"No, it's okay." Henry nodded. "It's fine, because this means..." He began. He stepped forward to face Frankland once more. John moved with him, ready to pull him off if he attacked again. "This means that my dad was right." He said. John and Greg both put a gentle hand on Henry's back as he edged closer to the sheepish Frankland.

"He found something out, didn't he, and that's why you killed him- Because he was right. And he'd found you out right in the middle of an experiment." Henry grinned to himself. Frankland got to his feet and before anyone could do anything, a blood-curdling snarl sounded behind them. Everyone span around, John firing at the hound again to kill it. It apparently had other plans about dying. As John's expert aiming caused the dog to fall again, Frankland took the opportunity to run for it.

He began sprinting through the trees. As John continued to shoot the falling dog, Sherlock ran right across his firing line, causing John to softly swear and hold his fire. He could easily have been shot then, the idiot.

He ran right after Frankland, with Claudia close behind. John turned and followed, with Henry and Lestrade behind them all.

"Frankland!" Sherlock called. Frankland continued to run away, with the others closely following him.

"Come on!" Lestrade urged Henry, who was lagging a bit behind.

"It's no use, Frankland!" Sherlock called. They soon reached a barbed wire fence keeping them from the minefield behind it. The same minefield that Frankland had jumped in to. He ran a few steps before his foot came into contact with a mine, making a clicking noise. He stopped dead and looked down at what he'd stepped on. When he realised that if he even adjusted the pressure in his foot, he would he blown up- he paused and looked back at the rest of the group. They were watching him in awe, chests heaving, guns outstretched. He deliberately lifted his foot, causing the mine to go off.

The others were thrown to the floor with the impact of the huge explosion, and scrambled back up to watch.

"He's dead." Claudia squeaked.

"Yes, well done, Claudia. Maybe you should take over my job." Sherlock said sarcastically, glancing to his right at her. She turned to look at him, a small smile plastered on her face. She leaned in and kissed him, muddy face and all, tugging on his coat collar to bring him closer to herself. He kissed her back longingly, aware that a few minutes before, Claudia had been sure they were all going to die. This was probably her way of getting rid of that tension, and feeling glad to be alive.

That evening, when they checked into their inn, the first thing Claudia did was run a bath.

"It's four in the morning." Sherlock murmured.

"So?" She asked.

"I assumed that was when normal people slept." He then said as he watched her try and tug out the knots in her hair.

"You think I'm normal?" She turned to him, wincing as she failed to pull the knot apart. She was grinning slightly at him though. He simply shrugged. "I thought we were going to die." She admitted.

"I've had that thought on many occasions." Sherlock replied nonchalantly.

"Right." Claudia nodded, expecting something a little more than that. Sherlock sensed that his reply annoyed her.

"I was worried about you too. I mean, I knew it wasn't really a hound. But I was still worried." He said, lying atrociously.

"You're really bad at that." Claudia replied, smirking.

"I'm getting better." Sherlock insisted indignantly. Claudia raised her eyebrows. "Ah, I see you're calling me a liar." He told her lazily.

"Ah, I see you're attempting to flirt again." Claudia imitated his deep voice but ended up sounding more like the Terminator.

"I'll stop trying to be nice." Sherlock huffed, closing his eyes in his seat. Claudia slowly walked over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"Oh don't, my love." She said in a dramatic voice that gave the impression she was about to swoon.

"Stop it." Sherlock shrugged her off irritatedly, and she simply laughed at him and kissed him swiftly, before brushing a curl from his eyes and twirling her way back to her dresser.

"Maybe you should have a bath. It might relax you a bit." She suggested as she gave up on her hair and decided just to wash it instead.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked, stopping her from walking into the bathroom and putting a finger on a deep red bruise on the hollow of her neck. Claudia simply smiled at him as if smiling at a child, and continued into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

He frowned- why had she not told him? Unless.. _Oh._ He got it. He'd done it.

"Sorry." He muttered to the wooden door. He heard her laugh from inside, and he relaxed slightly and went back to the chair he'd been sat in. Claudia was right, he was tense and agitated. It had been a good case but he'd got his adrenaline pumping and he needed more. However, he wouldn't stoop to having a bath. Life would never make him turn to _that._

Half an hour later and they were both led on top of the bed, staring at the ceiling. Claudia's wet hair was annoying Sherlock, he could feel it seeping through into the sheets.

"Can you not dry your hair?" He asked, snapping at her.

"No." She told him, and just to annoy him, she picked up a few of the gossamer strands and draped them on his chest. She grinned and turned her head back to the ceiling. He sighed with annoyance and stood up, pacing the room. "Well, if you don't like baths, why not have a shower?" She asked him, also standing up and walking to the vanity table, where she tied her hair up. He caught a hint of the products she'd been using. Vanilla. He laughed slightly under his breath and walked over to her- A panther stalking its prey.

He placed a hand on her cheek to bring her mouth up to his. And the rest, as they say, is history.

In the morning, John sat outside eating his breakfast and drinking a lot of tea. He needed it. His nerves were still shaken after the previous nights incidents. Sherlock soon joined him.

"So they didn't have it put down, then. The dog." Sherlock said.

"Obviously." John raised an eyebrow. "Suppose they just couldn't bring themselves to do it." He explained.

"I see." Sherlock lied unconvincingly.

"No you don't." John grinned, amused.

"No, I don't." He admitted. "Sentiment?" He asked.

"Sentiment!" John exclaimed, as if surprised that he guessed sentiment at all.

"Oh." He rolled his eyes as a response. He sat down next to John on the bench.

"Listen, what happened to me and Claudia in the lab?" John asked. Sherlock looked a him for a moment before busying himself with other things, turning to get a box of sauces and looking rather worried.

"You want sauce?" He asked, trying but failing to change the subject.

"I mean, we hadn't been to the Hollow, so how come we both heard those things in there? Fear and stimulus, you said." John pointed at him, suspecting something was up.

"You must have been dosed with it elsewhere, in the lab, maybe. You saw those pipes- pretty ancient, leaky as a sieve." Sherlock said.

"Hang on: Claudia knew it. You thought it was in the sugar." John realised. Sherlock stared. "You were convinced it was in the sugar." The detective looked away sheepishly.

"We'd better get going, actually. I need to find Claudia. I think she's gone for a walk. Yes. There's a train that leaves in half an hour." He once again changed the subject.

"Oh, God. It was you. You locked us in that bloody lab." John realised, furious.

"I had to. It was an experiment!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"An experiment? That was your wife in there, my _sister_, and she was terrified! I've never seen someone so scared!" John yelled.

"I thought that the drug was in the sugar, so I put the sugar in your coffee, then I arranged everything with Barrymore." Sherlock explained. John sighed. "It was totally scientific, lab conditions. Well, literally." Sherlock smirked somewhat.

He'd used a microphone to send the sounds into the lab using sound effects, and he'd turned lights off and blared alarms to confuse them. And then he'd watched it all on CCTV. He actually rather enjoyed it- being able to relax for a while.

"Well, I knew what effect it had on a superior mind, so I needed to try it on average ones." Sherlock insisted, trying but failing to defend himself. John looked up at him, as if warning him.

"You know what I mean." Sherlock tutted.

"Claudia's going to kill you when she finds out." John suddenly grinned, cheering up immensely.

"I was thinking, maybe we could keep it between ourselves?" Sherlock hinted, but his hopelessness only amused John more.

They both shut up when the girl herself skipped over, all happy and smiles. She'd been on the phone to Henry, making sure he was okay after the odd previous night.

"He's fine. He slept the best he has in years, he said." She informed them, sitting herself inbetween them both. John snorted into his tea as he drank it and Sherlock took to sulking as he usually did when he knew he was in the wrong.

"What?" Claudia asked, turning suspicious as she glared at her brother.

"Hey, this is nothing to do with me. You should ask Sherlock what happened in the lab." John advised, smirking as he stood up and carried his plate inside.

"What happened in the lab?" Claudia asked cautiously, turning to Sherlock who looked like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"It's funny, when you have a superior mind, you get to understand the importance of experiments..." Sherlock began.

Moments later, John could hear the argument from the pub. He smiled to himself as he paid the bill.

"How dare you do that to us! We were terrified! John was reduced to being a little girl, Sherlock!" Claudia yelled, and John's smile fell. That was hardly fair.

**Wooh, Baskerville done! Hope you enjoyed. And as a reply to a few people concerned as to whether I'm writing Reichenbach straight away, I'm not! I'm thinking of doing a few filler chapters, a few of my own cases and then delve into it! Won't be for a couple of weeks anyway, maybe even up to a month considering I'm on holiday in 6 DAYS BABY. **

**Thank you so so much for all your reviews and such, I thoroughly appreciate it. And to my readers on fanfiction, we hit over 100 reviews in just over 10 chapters! High five! Keep them coming and when I hit 200, I might do a very special chapter. You never know.**

**I shall now love you and leave you, have a nice day/night. Wherever/whenever you are.**

**-Fay xox**


	17. The London Eye

_**I want to tell you all, you mean everything to me. And we are always one even when we disagree. -Mesita**_

"She has two more days until she's back to University, so why is she just moping around in silence?" John asked as he walked in from shopping to find Sherlock and Claudia both lounging around in the living room, with their legs up on furniture. The lack of respect they had for the place was hurtful.

"She's ignoring me, John. Which is very childish and immature to say she's almost finished her degree." Sherlock snapped, opening his eyes to shoot a glare at her.

"Are you ignoring him now?" John asked, turning his attention to Claudia who looked incredibly bored. She nodded. "Well, it beats the arguments." He sighed, going into the kitchen after throwing his keys at Sherlock, who frowned when they hit his arm.

"All she has to do is forgive me." Sherlock called, wrapping his dressing gown tighter around his body.

"It would help if you apologized." John replied as he put the shopping away.

"Thank you!" Claudia exclaimed. John winced when he heard a thud and an 'oomph' sound from the girl. He stuck his head out to look what was going on. Sherlock had thrown a pillow at her. A rather heavy one, as it had almost made her fall. He tried to hide his laugh, but he couldn't. Sherlock was also smirking, his eyes crinkling as he did so.

"He's only mad because I'm divorcing him." Claudia spoke up, and the well known scowl returned to Sherlock's features.

"You're getting divorced?" John asked, amused. It was like they were little children again.

"Apparently." Sherlock quipped snarkily, getting off the couch and pacing the room. John rubbed his eye with a small smile on his face.

"I don't think it's an over-reaction. He tried to drug me and then he made me think a hound was going to kill me." Claudia said, not realising how ridiculous that sentence sounded.

"It was for science!" Sherlock shouted with exasperation, his hands gripped into fists as he glared at her. She shrugged and threw the pillow back, hitting his legs. "She's been throwing things at me, John." Sherlock accused, pointing at her.

"Like what?" John asked.

"The TV remote, a cup and her book." Sherlock listed quickly, still pointing at her. Unknown to him, she was rolling her eyes behind him.

"You threw a cup at him?" John turned to his sister with a smirk. She nodded proudly. "Which one?" He asked.

She pointed to a rather large ceramic mug laying miserably on the floor. John gave a small feminine giggle and turned to Sherlock.

"You'll just have to figure this one out on your own, mate. _**I **_have a date." John informed them, leaving them to it and going into the bathroom.

Claudia sulkily glanced at Sherlock, who had sat back down and was idly flicking through the book she'd thrown at him.

"Boring." He told her, putting it back down.

"Can I have it? I need to catch up with coursework." Claudia said quietly, holding her hand back. He threw it to her, but she caught it before it could hit her. She eyed him warily before flicking through it too.

"Just out of interest, how would you acquire the forms to get a divorce?" Sherlock asked lightly, knowing full well that she didn't know how to get a divorce.

"I'll talk to your brother." She said without thinking, and Sherlock frowned. Maybe she did.

"You wouldn't." Sherlock replied.

"Bite me." Claudia snapped back, glancing up at him before sighing and letting the book fall to the floor- bored of it already.

"I did once and you complained about it." Sherlock reminded her, and she instinctively pulled up the hem of her dress to cover the fading bruise.

"That's another reason I'm divorcing you." Claudia told him, closing her eyes.

"Is it?" Sherlock asked, watching her intently. He could do it all the time. She was quite amusing to watch. But she was also a pretty thing, so it was quite nice to watch her too.

"Yes." She told him, running a hand through her hair.

"Claude?" He asked. She opened one eye to look at him.

"I love you." He told her, knowing she'd melt at those words. She had in the past. And the more he openly said it, the easier it was for him. The first time had been hard. But it got significantly easier the more he did utter those small words with a large meaning.

She closed her eye again. Okay, he'd been wrong. But with a little more work, she'd cave in.

"Italian?" He asked her lazily.

"Yes!" She exclaimed, jumping from her chair and running to Sherlock's bedroom to get changed.

Sherlock had found the way to a woman's heart. Food, apparently.

They were both playing the game they both rather liked to play. The Deducing Game. They'd played it before, and Claudia hadn't gotten any better at it. In fact, despite the amount of time she spent with Sherlock, she'd barely picked up any deducing skills. Consequently, he had taken up trying to talk her through his techniques, helping her come to conclusions of her own.

"Those two." Sherlock murmured, looking pointedly over Claudia's head at a man and woman sitting behind her. She turned surreptitiously and eyed them up for a few moments.

"I don't know- they've just bought a kitten." Claudia sighed, getting fed up with her own mind.

Sherlock shook his head. "Look at them." He ordered.

"I can't. He's facing my way. I can't just turn and look, Sherlock." Claudia hissed quietly. He rolled his eyes as a response.

"Just turn, quickly." He told her, and she did so.

"Okay, what did you want me to see?" She asked, actually quite enjoying herself.

"How old are they?" He asked her.

"Young. Late teens, maybe." Claudia replied, sipping at her wine. He nodded.

"Do they know each other well? Look at their body language." Sherlock said. She once again glanced behind to see the couple. The girl was twirling her hair around her finger and staring too long into the mans eyes. The man was making unfunny jokes and constantly glancing around the room to see if men were watching them. Their conversation was awkward, it seemed. All fake laughs and no talk.

"No." Claudia said. "First date? Second date? Something like that." She replied. Sherlock smiled at her.

"Good." He complimented. "Are they into it?" He then asked her, enjoying watching as she strained herself to do what he did every second of every day.

"Can we do someone else? I can't keep staring at them." Claudia begged, only to receive a shake of the head. She sighed and turned incredibly quickly.

"She looks like she's happy. He's not smiling too much." She said quietly.

"She likes him, he doesn't like her. Want me to finish?" Sherlock asked. She shook her head this time.

"I want to see if I can get the right answer. What am I meant to be deducing?" She asked.

"Them." Sherlock shrugged.

She sighed, annoyed by Sherlock once again. He was too vague sometimes. "She's all flirty, he's all trying to be macho making sure no other men are gonna try and steal his new girlfriend." Claudia shrugged, waiting to see if that was all she was meant to be finding out.

"And?" He coaxed. And then she gave in. She found it impossible to know what we wanted her to say, and so let him say it.

"You finish it." Claudia grumbled, finishing her wine and slamming the glass down on the table.

"If you insist." Sherlock said, getting into it. "You're right- _she's_ loving it. By her body language and the way she keeps adjusting her dress to show off her cleavage, she's trying to impress him. He, however, doesn't seem too interested. He's more interested in looking around at the surroundings. His surroundings being mainly couples.

"So- what's he doing? Trying to figure out how the first date thing goes? No, he's done it many times. More like he's trying to figure out how to have a first date with a _girl_. He's watching the men, but by his submissive stance and his elongated stares at particular men, he's trying to see how they do it. How they _like _girls. So, Claudia. Why's he not into it?" He asked her, finally tearing his eyes away from the couple and fixing them on his wife.

"He's gay." She said.

"Exactly. So, why's he on a date with a girl? Could have been pressurised by society, or his family and friends. Or, more likely, he's seeing what it's like. No harm in trying, is there? Apparently, there is. According to his bored disposition. All she's talking about is relationships, he'd rather talk about other things. Not a happy first date, and it'll end in tears very soon." Sherlock concluded.

"I thought of half of it. Don't take all the credit." Claudia shot back, "Get me more wine." She demanded.

"John compliments me when I do that." Sherlock hinted. He got no reply, just an annoyed looking wife and an empty wine glass.

The waiter walked over and Sherlock ordered another bottle, before Claudia came up with a new game.

"If you didn't know me, what would you deduce about me?" She asked, sitting back in her chair. Now, _this _could be interesting.

####

"Yes, I know that's what I said. But I've changed my mind. She simply cannot stay in this country. She's a risk to national security and she could be endangering us all." Mycroft snapped down the phone. "Let her free, and believe me Montague, you will be fired. And I don't just mean from this job. You will never be hired by anyone again. So, _do this right._" He stressed.

"Yes, sir. We have her in the confinement unit, sir. Do you want us to deport her immediately?" Montague replied.

Mycroft thought for a moment.

"No. I would like a word with her before she goes. I'd be very interested to learn about her uncle." He mused, squeezing his stress ball with a smiley face on it. The opposite of how he felt. The last thing he felt was happy.

He'd have to call his brother. This woman had secrets, and even he knew that Sherlock would be the best man to deduce what they were. You see, torture wouldn't work .They'd done that before, and it just made her stronger.

Either Sherlock's wit would crack her, or his sharp tongue would. She's get so annoyed by his personality that she'd tell him everything just to shut him up. She'd be wishing to be deported sooner.

Yes, Mycroft thought, to call in Sherlock would be the best idea. And where Sherlock is, John is. And, he supposed, Claudia now.

####

"Young woman, but has witnessed things a young woman shouldn't have to witness. You have a wary expression, as if you expect everyone around you to be murderers. You've been involved in crime then, and by the way you're playing with your engagement ring right now, it's something to do with your 'fiancé.'" Sherlock smirked at that.

"Judging by the way you style yourself, you're fond of the past. This could then resonate with your line of work, which you are studying for. History. Scribbled notes on the back of your hand. Dates and events. You're revising, and you find this a good revision technique. Constant memorising of facts. There- History student.

"You're originally from London, although you've been living away for a while. Your accent is slightly northern, and you have a tendency to use northern slang. You say 'brew' instead of 'cup of tea' for example. You're studying History, and you don't live in London. The best University for History up north is Manchester. You live in Manchester, then.

"I can tell by your jewellery that your partner is both a wonderful man and someone who is quite fond of you, for some reason. Your necklace. A large diamond, with neat but not professional scripture on it. He did it himself, then. He's wonderful." He grinned, and Claudia couldn't help but smirk. "And I know for a fact that the man who gave this to you doesn't have a tendency to give people jewellery, let alone one of the most precious diamonds on the world. He values you a lot, then. He doesn't value a lot of people, Claudia." He told her, and she knew what he wanted.

He wanted to be forgiven for the Baskerville incident.

"You failed." Claudia informed him. He frowned. "I told you to act like you don't know me. You didn't do that." She smiled, very gently kicking him under the table.

"I'll go and pay the bill." Sherlock said, taking his wallet and leaving for the bar. Claudia put her jacket on and stood, waiting for him. She finished the last of her wine quickly and leant on the chair. He came back a few minutes later and put his own coat on.

The two of them walked outside into the brisk night air, with cars whizzing past them and people milling around- despite the late(ish) time.

"I don't want to go home yet." Claudia said sulkily, hands in her pockets.

"But we finished our meal." Sherlock spoke up, not sure what she did want to do.

"Let's go and do something." She grinned at him. He seemed put off by that idea. "I haven't even been on the London Eye, yet! Not at night anyway." She amended, suddenly taking his hand in hers and swinging them as they walked.

"No." Sherlock said simply.

"Yes." Claudia said, and dragged him in the opposite direction to get to the Eye.

"It's boring. If I wanted an aerial view of London, I'd look online." Sherlock complained, only to be silenced when she sent him a death glare.

"We're going." She informed him.

#####

"Isn't it beautiful?" Claudia breathed when they reached the top of the wheel and looked out at the lit-up London. A multitude of bright yellow and dull orange lights screamed at them from thousands of houses and offices. The lights contrasted with the silky blue night sky, and made it look breathtaking.

The way Claudia saw it, it was a hub of life. Each one of those lights represented a different story. Something different was happening behind each of those houses emitting those lights. There would be happy people and sad people, and people who were dying and people who had just been born. Break ups and make ups and being fired and hired in jobs. Dreading work and having hangovers. People having parties and people sitting in watching TV with a bowl of popcorn and a thick blanket.

Yes, it was ordinary but it was what made people human. The human essence of finding things to do from having _nothing. _And if you watched hard enough, you could see it all happening right before you. Sherlock saw it all happening all the time but he just didn't appreciate how delicate and precious those moments were. Well, maybe he was starting to. _Maybe._

Sherlock didn't see it that way, of course. He saw it for what it was. A waste of time. All of those people- doing nothing. Relaxing, sleeping, contributing nothing to society. It was all so boring, and so mundane and reminded him of why he strived to work for the course of justice. It gave his life a purpose. Instead of succumbing to emotions, or sitting in and watching TV with a bowl of popcorn- he could happily say that he'd solved countless crimes and was the reason that some of the most deadliest people alive were in prison. Or, in some countries- dead!

Then again, if it made Claudia happy, he'd put up with succumbing to emotions and watching TV with a bowl of popcorn. And that was why we was stood looking out at this large array of humanity, the messy and sprawling city that is London.

Where, at that very moment, a mastermind criminals sister was being tortured into confessing everything she knew about her brother.

#####

When they did get home, Claudia immediately collapsed on the couch and closed her eyes. She was worn out. They'd decided against getting a cab home, because Claudia had wanted to walk. She regretted that decision pretty quickly. Apparently, London was a big place.

"Sherlock." Claudia mumbled into the couch. He grunted his reply. "Will you make me some tea?" She asked. He grumbled and sighed but begrudgingly went to the kitchen and began making her a cup of tea.

When he walked back into the living room, mere minutes later, he knew she was asleep. He cursed softly and took the tea into the kitchen and practically threw it on the sideboard. He then picked her up from the couch and took her into his bedroom, where he put her in his bed. He got undressed and climbed in next to her, brushing her hair aside so he could watch her sleep.

"Stop staring at me." She told him, her eyes still closed. He took his hand away from her face and sighed.

"Are you still divorcing me?" He asked, as if he'd accepted his fate of being a single man again.

"No." Claudia grinned, "Because you don't value many people, apparently. So maybe I should appreciate that." She joked.

"That's what I've been trying to say." Sherlock sighed.

"Piss me off like that again and I'm divorcing you and getting custody of the kid. John."

_#####_

**A wee little bit of a filler here, just because it feels like I haven't written some nice Sherlock/Claudia for awhile. Shlaudia. I like it. **

**Anyway, I know I've been a way for a while, but I have reasons! I had my prom, and then I've been working and then I got tonsillitis- which made me really sleepy and it felt like I had the flu. It was awful.**

**And I'm very very sorry but this is the last chapter you'll get from me in about two weeks, because tomorrow is the day I go! I guess that's why I made it a nice chapter, as a way of saying sorry. I hope you don't all forget about me!**

**I promise I'll update as soon as I get back. Well, maybe a few hours later because I'll probably be tired. You know what I mean. Keep strong, people!**

**Please review and stuff! **

**-Fay xox**


	18. Mia Wajnapel

"Is it connected to Moriarty?" Sherlock asked on the phone to his brother. Claudia and John were both sitting near him, idly listening as they were otherwise engaged in daytime TV. At those words, the siblings' attentions were diverted and they turned to watch his facial expressions as he said his name. "Then I'm not interested. Surely you can solve this one yourself. It's simple extraction of information, Mycroft. It's perhaps the only thing that isn't above you."

John rolled his eyes and Claudia soon grew bored, switching her attention to Jeremy Kyle in front of her who was lecturing a young set of parents.

"Interviewing a woman- who isn't herself a criminal – is not what I do, you know that." Sherlock barked into his phone. Claudia turned the TV up. Things on screen were getting worked up, and Jeremy had called security to assist him with the violent young father. She cocked an eyebrow at the trivial story.

"If you promise not to contact me for another two months then I'll help you." Sherlock relented, finding it the lesser evil to help his brother than to have said brother hounding him for weeks.

He hung up the phone and soon shrugged his coat and scarf on. "John?" He asked. John sighed and also put his jacket on.

"Oh, charming. So I'm supposed to be staying in here, am I? When I'm going home tomorrow." Claudia complained, only half bothered. Her attention was still taken by the on screen arguments.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself." Sherlock quipped, glaring at the screen. She shrugged and turned back around, letting herself be once again immersed by the plot.

"It'll be boring." Sherlock said, despite the fact that she'd agreed with him. To John, it was obvious that he wanted her to come but was too proud to ask. He wanted her to beg to join them, to which he'd unwillingly agree.

"I know, I'm agreeing with you." Claudia replied.

"I suppose, you can come if you want." Sherlock said suggestively, and Claudia turned to smirk at him.

She begrudgingly got up and joined them, also putting her jacket on. "Let's just note this in our minds as the time that Sherlock insisted I join you both." She grinned, and John laughed and opened the door for them both.

"What are we actually doing, Sherlock? All we could hear was one half of an argument." John claimed as they watched Sherlock successfully hail a taxi.

"Mycroft has a woman who is related to a master criminal. She's been allowed into the country when she shouldn't have been. Looks like someone at security is going to get more than a slap on the wrist, for she's a risk to national security. She has information that could put Mycroft out of a job, so obviously, he must stop her before she tells anyone what she knows. Apart from me, of course." Sherlock explained rather big-headedly. He opened the car door for his companions and they climbed in, and he slammed the door behind him as he also climbed in.

"So, we're going to interview her?" Claudia asked, feeling somewhat intimidated. She was new to the whole game, and she was about to interview a relative of a world class criminal.

"Yes." Sherlock replied, being obtuse to the fact that she was suddenly somewhat tense about the whole ordeal.

"Don't worry." John stepped in. "I've done this with him before. You stand at the back of the room while he does all the talking." He assured her. Claudia smiled, relieved. "So, come on Sherlock. Give us a bit of insight." John asked as the man himself instructed where to drive them.

"Mia Wajnapel. Young French lady who has been under strict authority to stay out of the country. Her brother is Albert Wajnapel, renowned criminal. He used to be a big part of the French government, dealing with getting rid of people from the country that they didn't want. He then turned from being a hero of the country to one of the most despised men of the country, when he began to keep terrorists and national threats _in_ the country instead of deporting them like he should have done. His insolence led to a number of deaths which **could** have been stopped. I was made to go to France a couple of years ago to deal with the whole case.

"I found that he had been harbouring these criminals for his own gain, allowing them free roam of France to do whatever they pleased. Most of this was robbing banks and wealthy people, and he got a share of the money. When I found him out for the thieving man he is, he was forced from the country and into strict guarded refuge somewhere in South America.

"All family members are to be kept under watch in Paris where they originate, for they may also know information on who these criminals are. But, they can't arrest them for anything as they haven't actually _done_ anything wrong. They are, however, under 24 hour watch. Their guard has let Mia out of the country however, and we need to find out what she wants. The Wajnapel's are a tricky family, as Albert proved.

"If Mycroft is worried about this young lady, then I suppose I have to help him. Besides, it'll be rewarding when he leaves me alone for a while." Sherlock concluded, as he rolled his shirt up and slapped on a nicotine patch, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply as he did so. The cab driver in front was listening curiously, but when John and Claudia looked up, he averted his eyes as if guilty.

"Hey, whatever's said in the cab stays in the cab." The driver claimed. Claudia smirked.

"Don't worry. We won't hold a gun to your head and make you swear to never tell a soul what you just heard." John joked, just as Sherlock patted his pockets to check that his own gun was there. He took it out and the cab drivers eyes widened and his speed increased ever so slightly- anxious to take their money and leave them wherever the Hell they wanted to be.

When he finally managed to drop them off, Sherlock paid once again and led them into the large warehouse looking building.

"Ah, so glad you could make it Sherly." They heard his voice before they saw him, but there he was. Umbrella over the crook of his arm and looking as immaculate as ever, Mycroft was smiling at them from his seat by a window which looked onto a girl curled up on an uncomfortable looking stone bed attached to the wall.

"Mia Wajnapel." Sherlock said, completely ignoring Mycroft.

"Exactly." Mycroft replied, standing next to his brother. "I trust you understand the delicacy of the situation, Sherlock, and haven't been lecturing cab drivers of what's going on in government affairs." Mycroft said.

"How does he know that?" Claudia blurted out, and John smirked.

"I have magic powers, my dear." Mycroft smirked. "Lovely to see you both, as always." He told them.

"Let's get rid of the niceties and get on with it. Let us in." Sherlock ordered.

"Just a few things before you go." Mycroft frowned, picking up a large looking file and handing it to his brother. "Leaf through that. I trust you know most of it, as you solved the whole Albert Wajnapel case. But just refresh your memory." He begged.

Sherlock begrudgingly took the file and sat, leafing through it and occasionally glancing through the window and at the seemingly sleeping girl.

Five minutes later and he was refreshed and up to date.

"Let us in." He repeated. Mycroft took the file and unlocked the door. He sauntered into the cell and left the door open for the other three to follow. From out of nowhere, a security guard was flanking them, rifle in his hand.

"Miss Wajnapel, I'd like you to meet some private detectives I know. This is Sherlock Holmes, Claudia Holmes and Dr John Watson. They're going to ask you some questions before you go home." Mycroft said politely, before linking his hands behind him and leaving them to it. He left his guard in the cell with them, and shut and locked the door after him.

Sherlock watched the girl for a moment as she sat up on the bed and looked at them.

"I've made a statement. Just read that. I just want to go home." Mia said in broken English and a heavy French accent.

Claudia looked at her- properly looked. She tried to do what Sherlock was doing. She tried to deduce. She was pretty, with long brown hair and lovely olive skin and large hazel eyes. But she was tired, that was obvious even to the untrained eye. She had bags under her eyes and her skin was blotchy, she yawned and stretched numerous times and her hair was ruffled through lack of care to her appearance.

"You can go home if you can give us some insight as to what's going on, Miss Wajnapel." John said calmly, taking a seat. Claudia didn't follow suit. She stood next to her husband and waited for him to make a move before she did too.

"I already have. And you're not police officers. I don't have to tell you anything." Mia snapped. She was about to lie down and go back to sleep, when Sherlock interrupted her.

"How _is_ Micha Carere these days?" He asked, throwing himself into a seat in front of her and leaning back, his legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

Mia's breath hitched and she sat back up, staring at him with those wide and tired eyes. Claudia glanced suspiciously at Sherlock.

"How do you know of Michael?" Mia breathed.

"I have a good knowledge of the French officials, Miss Wajnapel. I also researched who was in charge of observing you. Micha Carere. He's your warden. He offers 24 hour surveillance, and you managed to 'woo' him, didn't you?" Sherlock asked.

"That's private." Mia claimed.

"Refusal to answer questions will weaken your testimony." Sherlock said lazily.

"In other words, do you want to go home?" John asked gently, imploring with her to tell them the truth.

She sighed, and her eyes suddenly darted to Claudia. Claudia was awkwardly stood behind the men, arms crossed as she sullenly watched the interrogation.

"You're a girl, you understand." She pleaded with her. "Imagine having no personal and private life. Imagine every part of your life being watched by strangers. I hated it. All because my brother misused his position in the government. It was nothing to do with me!" Mia exclaimed, standing up and walking quickly over to Claudia.

"I understand." Claudia agreed quietly.

"Get away from her." Sherlock snapped, practically pulling Mia back to the stone bed and away from Claudia.

"Hold on, who is this Micha person?" John asked, trying to get the attention of his sister.

"Michael 'Micha' Carere. Like your friend said. My 'warden.' He was the man in charge of making sure me and my family didn't escape and didn't know anything we shouldn't. It took a while, I admit, a couple of years. He was resolute. But finally, I broke him. And he fell in love with me. I begged him to let me leave the country, and he did so." Mia shrugged.

"Why did you want to leave the country? I know for a fact that you love France, especially Paris. You love the romance and the heat and the food." Sherlock claimed. Mia's eyes widened once more.

"How do you know that?" She asked. Sherlock sighed in response.

"Simple. I observed. Countless French books on your person, smutty romances, set in Paris. One, two, three that I can see." Sherlock said, pointing to the small pile of books on the floor near the bed. "You are dressed for heat, obviously you only have clothes for hot weather. You enjoy it then. Your natural tan would say so too. You also like the food- as you have brought various Parisian snacks with you, all of which have wrappers which you have discarded on the floor." Sherlock said, his eyes darting over every article he'd just mentioned. They lingered on the various wrappers especially.

"Please, just let me go home." Mia begged, suddenly very weary.

"Why did you want to come to England?" Sherlock asked once more. Unrelenting was one of his favourite things about himself.

"To get away from it all! I'm sick of having cameras following my every movement in case my brother happened to tell me anything before he was imprisoned." Mia snapped, suddenly glaring at them all once more.

"Fair enough." John relented. Sherlock seemed deep in thought, fingers steepled under his chin as he watched Mia Wajnapel intently.

"Stop me if I'm wrong- and I rarely am. Carere allowed you to slip away from his watch without alerting the police. You then get to the airport. Security is strict in France, with it being one of the more modern of the European countries. The Wajnapel family are not allowed passports. You have one forged then, probably by Micha Carere. Under what name?" He asked her.

"Joan Blackledge." She sighed.

"So, you disguised yourself as Joan Blackledge and took a flight to England. You used the same passport in England. You successful got through security, which is disappointing."

"Yes." Mia said shiftily.

"Liar." Sherlock claimed. "Someone helped you. Once again, you managed to get someone on the inside get you through into the country. Every airport security guard in both countries knows your face, Miss Wajnapel. You wouldn't have been allowed through security without someone helping you. Please do not retain information. What happened?" Sherlock asked.

"It would have all been useless if I'd have just turned up at the airport. They know who I am, like you said. They would have caught me in a second. I paid a security guard nothing short of a million sterling pounds to get me through with no questions asked. I did the same in England. It's shocking how laid back security guards are." Mia claimed, self satisfied.

"Very well. You paid the security a significant amount of money to get you through passport control and security checks. It was then easy to stay out of public eye, until Mycroft Holmes managed to witness you on one of his millions of CCTV cameras he has littered through the country.

"My question is this- Why not go on a little holiday in France? Why go to the trouble of going to England?" Sherlock asked, knowing the answer but wanting to appear gormless to the situation.

"I had no intention of going back to France. This wasn't supposed to be a holiday, Mr Holmes. This was a chance to leave my Big Brother life behind and get away from being watched every minute of every day. I was going to start fresh as Joan Blackledge and live a normal life." She claimed.

"And then you got caught." John said, smiling slightly. Mia glared at him.

"Is that all? I've told you everything. Can I go home now?" She asked desperately. "I'm sick of these four walls."

"Oh, you're going to be staying here for a while." Sherlock smiled, but got the idea that she wanted them to leave. He stood and buttoned his long coat up. John and Claudia followed suit.

"I'll call back one day and have a catch up. Have a nice sleep, Miss Wajnapel." Sherlock said, and left the room. John ignored the woman while Claudia felt awkward and gave her a little wave as a goodbye.

"Bye." Mia said softly to the girl.

"We didn't actually learn anything then, Sherlock. You just told her what you already knew and she agreed with you." John claimed as they marched out of the warehouse and into the carpark outside.

Mycroft was waiting for them, talking amiably with Anthea.

"What happened? Has she admitted anything?" He asked excitedly. Their rejected looks disappointed him. "I expected more, Sherly." He admitted.

"You know my methods, Mycroft. I need time. Give me another week and I'll crack her. One thing you can get your guards to do. Any rubbish she has left behind, get it and send it my way." He asked.

"Rubbish?" Mycroft raised an eyebrow delicately.

"Wrappers. The ones on the floor right now. I couldn't get them myself without blowing my cover of ignorance. Get them for me." He instructed.

"Very well." Mycroft said. "Do use the car. Take them to Baker Street, Anthea." Mycroft said. Anthea nodded and opened the door for them. They climbed in the back seat of the Jaguar and Anthea got in the front with the driver.

"Wrappers?" John asked Sherlock as they were driven home.

"I'll explain in due course." Sherlock promised.

"What was the point of me being there?" Claudia asked, somewhat annoyed that she'd allowed herself to be dragged from Jeremy Kyle to witness that.

"She liked you and you empathised with her. We can get her closer to us." Sherlock explained.

"Ah, so you're using me?" Claudia realised, glaring at him. Sherlock thought about his reply before he spoke it, which John was glad about.

"No." He finally managed to say.

"I'm not going back." Claudia insisted.

"Please." Sherlock begged.

"No." Claudia retorted.

"You did seem to help, Claude." John admitted, sighing as he was once again allocated baby sitter.

"See." Sherlock said.

####

That evening, John was out with Carla- whom he was on the brink of starting a relationship with at that point.

"Just... Please don't kill each other. It'd be awful." John pleaded as he hurriedly left the flat. "Bye!" He called as he slammed the door shut behind him.

"If I did kill you I'd be able to hide the evidence so well that nobody would know it was me." Sherlock claimed nonchalantly.

"How romantic, _darling_." Claudia cooed sarcastically, grabbing his chin and kissing his cheek. He grunted with derision and pushed her away, only causing her to grin and do it again.

"I could be romantic if I wanted to be." Sherlock claimed.

"No you couldn't." Claudia grinned. "It's something I like about you. When you _are_ sweet, you don't know you're _being_ sweet. You can be quite romantic sometimes- you just don't mean to be." She explained, and he looked at her oddly. She tried to hold his stare but she couldn't match the intensity and settled for going cross-eyed, causing him to smile.

"I don't want to go home tomorrow." Claudia suddenly frowned, averting her eyes to her knotted hands on her lap, absently picking her nail varnish from her nails.

"Then don't." Sherlock replied lazily, getting from his laid down position on the couch and walked to his make-shift Chemistry lab. He sat down and began tapping salts into a chemical he'd left to settle for half an hour. Claudia watched him with an eyebrow raised.

He was very delicate when it came to his Chemistry. With gentle hands and the lightest of touches he tapped his beakers and separated different salts and held them up to the light to see their true colour. She didn't know what he was looking for, or even if he was actually looking for anything. She'd always assumed that it was through boredom that he did that. Maybe it was to keep his ennui at bay, that constant feeling he had of not being satisfied with the world and what if offered. He always wanted more. He craved stimulation, he was addicted to exercising his mind in any way he could. That was his downfall. He was a genius, and that came with advantages. But it also came with disadvantages. He would never be completely happy.

"What are you doing?" Claudia asked quietly, after about five minutes of silently watching him work.

"Come and look." He told her. She slid from the couch and tiredly walked over to him. She put a hand on the back of his chair to get a closer look.

A solution of water and purple crystals was in a beaker. The crystals were moving in a clockwise direction through the water, leaving their purple hue in a streak as they moved. It was pretty. Claudia smiled.

"How does that work then?" She asked.

"A convection current." Sherlock explained, and launched into how the heat of the water carried the crystals around through the different densities of water. When he'd explained that, he said, "Things like this stop the boredom from becoming too much."

She idly wondered if he'd told anyone anything like that before, and came to the conclusion that she didn't think he had.

To reaffirm her thoughts, Sherlock turned away from his make-shift lab and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest. She smiled and did the same, resting her head on his shoulder and inhaling that wonderful smell he had of spices and cinnamon and old libraries.

"I understand you." She promised.

"That's generally entailed with the role of being a wife." Sherlock quipped. Claudia sighed and got out of their warm embrace and launched herself back to the couch, jumping on it and switching her music on from her record player. The Rolling Stones. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to become immersed in the music, ignoring the looming figure of Sherlock sitting down next to her and gingerly placing his hand over hers. Without opening her eyes, she linked their fingers together, causing him to smile and relax.

####

**I'm back! God I've missed you all! Crete was lovely and all, and I'm sad to be back, but I've really missed writing! Bit of an odd one this chapter, not quite enough romantic Shlaudia for my liking but I promise to make the next chapter full of fluff, for those of you who love it as much as I do!**

**So, how have you been while I've been away? I hope you've not forgotten me. **

**Please do what you do best and comment, it keeps me motivated and all that..**

**-Fay xox**


	19. Wedding Bands

_**Cigarettes, wedding bands. -Band of Horses.**_

"I guess I'll see you soon, then?" Claudia said as her train pulled up at the station, slowly and foreboding. John awkwardly shuffled his feet and stepped away as she said her farewells to Sherlock, knowing when to leave them to their private moments. Their wedding might have been a fake, but their feelings certainly were not.

"Yes. Good luck with your exams, Claude." Sherlock said quietly, not wanting John to overhear and mock his sentimental goodbyes. Claudia smiled and, with a typical train station kiss, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. This caused a few obviously single onlookers to swoon with jealousy. The farewell railway romance was something read about in books. A long distance relationship- and the kisses that went with it.

Sherlock dropped the suitcase he'd been carrying for her in order to in turn wrap his arms around her waist. If a woman was watching then and _hadn't_ fainted, she had when she saw that.

"That's enough now." John called over awkwardly, having enough of watching them do... _That. _

Claudia laughed and let Sherlock go, before hugging her brother too.

"Good luck, Claude. I'll ring you before you go in for the exams. You'll smash them." John muttered to his sister. She grinned.

"Thanks, John." She said sincerely, and kissed his cheek. John wiped it away incredibly quickly. He'd seen _what_ she'd kissed with that mouth.

While they'd been saying goodbye, Sherlock had taken her suitcase and stored it away on the train for her.

The conductor blew his whistle, signalling that the train was about to leave. Claudia quickly jumped on the train before it went with her luggage and left her behind. She took a window seat and waved them goodbye as the train slowly slid away.

"You're a soppy git, I hope you know that." John said as he waved back.

"Out of the two of us, John, I was the one who got married first." Sherlock kindly reminded him, causing John to grimace at that lovely realisation.

"There must be something wrong with me, then." John said as the two friends began to walk away from the busy, bustling and swelteringly hot train station and headed for home.

"Clearly." Sherlock quipped lazily.

####

As she sat on the train, idly watching the trees whizzing past and the hundreds of houses and farm land that she passed, she absently thought of Mia Wajnapel, stuck in her little cell being watched despite running away precisely to get away from being watched. Had she done anything wrong? Claudia wasn't sure, but she didn't think she had. Sherlock would probably come up with a hundred ways to say that Mia had done something wrong, but Sherlock wasn't there.

The odd thing was, Claudia understood. It must be hard having to pay for your brothers stupidity and greed, and having to live with the consequences. Having cameras planted in every room of her house, being constantly watched in case she harboured important information that she shouldn't have. She was a young woman, the last thing on her mind would be to take down the government. She'd want normal things. A boyfriend. Privacy. To go out and get drunk with friends. A normal social life. Claudia very much knew that Mia Wajnapel didn't get to do any of those things.

Claudia pushed all thoughts of her London life behind. She ditched the romantic hues of the thoughts of a certain consulting detective, discarded anything that would take her mind off of what was important in the next few weeks. Her many exams. They were important. As soon as she'd done them, and got her results, she could permanently move back to London. And that would be good.

With a disheartening sigh, Claudia pulled the table down from the back of the chair in front of her, and got out a text book, slamming it onto the dirty plastic table with a loud thud. Getting back to the boring stuff was always a come down after spending time with Sherlock and John. Their lives were a whirlwind of intrigue and mystery, while hers flowed like the calmest of rivers on a summers day- reading from text books and attending lectures.

#####

Sherlock, upon returning to Miss Wajnapel's cell, was given a handful of discarded wrappers.

"As you requested." Mycroft said with an eloquently raised eyebrow. Sherlock took them and ignored his brother.

"When did you get them?" Sherlock asked urgently.

"About twenty minutes ago." A guard replied, his rifle cocked in his arm.

"Brilliant." Sherlock claimed enthusiastically, rushing to the window overlooking her sleeping form and sitting down, a large grin on his face as he waited for her to realise they were gone.

As he waited, he intently studied each and every wrapper, looking for codes or passwords or anything that she could use to her advantage.

"All right, Sherlock. What're you doing?" John finally asked when he got bored, his arms crossed as he watched his friend with a bemused expression on his features.

"She's obviously here for a reason, John. Even you must know that. She's smuggling something into the country, but what is it? Her bag and possessions have been thoroughly searched. But what's something that she could easily bring passwords or codes or anything into the country on so she doesn't forget them? Food wrappers! There is no security guard alive that would so thoroughly check someone that they would inspect the food wrappers that she's flying with. It's perfect! It's how she's bringing her information into the country- right under everyone's noses." Sherlock explained.

"Brilliant." John said when he'd finished, a sly smile on his face. "So you're waiting to see her reaction?" John then enquired.

"Precisely." Sherlock replied.

"Have you found anything on these accused wrappers, Sherly?" Mycroft asked, inspecting his finger nails with an intensive eye.

"Don't interrupt, Mycroft, really." Sherlock scalded, turning his attention back to the wrappers and peering at them. "Ha!" He laughed mockingly. He showed it to John. It was a code.

"How do you know that's not just printed on the wrapper?" John asked, frowning.

"Different colour, different font, different size. It's not for this wrapper, John. I bet there's others in the same colour, font and size on the others too." Sherlock grinned, seizing the others and inspecting them too. As he thought, there was a different code on each wrapper, in the same colour, font and size.

"Hm. Well done." Mycroft congratulated, also inspecting them and begrudgingly flattering his younger brother. John smirked at his tone of voice. "How many are there?" He asked. Sherlock didn't even have to count.

"Seven." He replied. "Make sure she has no more on her person, when she awakes." He said.

"Will do." Mycroft said, nodding at his guard who nodded in return and saluted. "And do tell Claudia of your discovery, for she thinks Miss Wajnapel is innocent." Mycroft smiled nastily at his brother.

"I know she does." Sherlock spat back, as if he didn't know!

"How the Hell did you know that?" John demanded, once again befuddled by the Holmes mind.

"A few sympathetic glances, reassuring words and disbelief in her eyes." Sherlock listed quickly. John nodded.

"Well, it doesn't matter really, does it?" John asked. The Holmes brothers both shrugged. Not really.

"Ah, she's waking." Mycroft noted when he saw Mia stretch and yawn into her hand. Sherlock grinned again, sitting forwards in his chair to watch her reaction more thoroughly. If he didn't have to blink, he wouldn't have.

They watched as she sat up, blinked a few times and smiled absently down at the floor, where her passwords and codes had been when she'd gone to sleep. She thought she'd been so clever, flaunting her secret right in front of them. Leaving them out for everyone to see. She thought her brother would have been proud of her.

But then she noticed. They were gone. The cleaner must have taken them when sweeping up, or something similar. She panicked slightly. How could she ask for them back without raising suspicions? Unless she'd tidied them away before she'd slept and she'd forgotten.

Sherlock guffawed when the girl frantically began searching through pockets and under her bed, in her bed sheets and even in her shoes.

When she realised they'd gone for good, she stood up straight again and began to cry, her hands cupped around her mouth as she looked around with disbelief.

Mycroft took that as his cue to enter.

"Oh, stop your crying. You'll be going home soon." Mycroft lied. Mia turned to him with blurry and teary eyes.

"It's all over." She claimed in a broken voice. "I want that girl! Where's the girl?!" She demanded.

"Claudia? She's in Manchester, I'm afraid. Why do you want Claudia Holmes?" Mycroft asked, somewhat surprised by her request. Why, out of everyone, would she ask for his sister-in-law?

"She was the only one who understood!" Mia screeched. "Get me her. I have rights!" She exclaimed.

"And so does Claudia. It's completely up to her if she returns or not. She has exams this week I believe, and she's many hundreds of miles away." Mycroft smiled rather nastily.

Mia sat back down on her bed and began to sulk, tears still dripping sadly down her cheeks. She'd lost the only thing securing her life. As long as she had those codes, she was safe. And they'd gone.

"Now, are you ready to tell us anything yet?" Sherlock asked, also entering the room after his brother and sitting back in the chair he'd been sat in the previous day. John followed, taking his usual stance of a few steps behind Sherlock with his arms folded.

"I have nothing else to tell you." Mia claimed.

"Lies." Sherlock snapped, getting annoyed by her.

"If you tell us everything you know, it'll be much easier for you in the long run." John promised, though he didn't know if he had the authority to make that promise.

"I'll talk to the girl only." Mia said.

"My wife is not here, Miss Wajnapel." Sherlock said. Mia looked surprised when he said that.

"She's your wife? But she's nice!" She exclaimed. Sherlock glared at her while Mycroft and John tried to hide their utter delight at that sentence.

"I will only talk to the girl." Wajnapel said again, insistently.

"Sherlock, call your wife please." Mycroft said amiably, sending him a knowing look. "Happy to talk on the phone?" Mycroft asked.

"Of course not." Mia smiled back. "Claudia Holmes, in person, and I'll talk." She explained. Mycroft sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with frustration.

"For God sake, Sherlock. Get her back here." Mycroft said. "This has gone on for long enough." He sighed.

"She won't come back." John guffawed, amused. "She wouldn't leave for something so trivial." Sherlock had to admit, John was right.

"Trivial?" Mycroft demanded. "This isn't trivial! This is an issue of national security. Tell her if she doesn't come of her own free will, I'll send some rather nasty men to get her." Mycroft snarled.

"You will not." Sherlock spat. "Do that and I promise to you now, I would _never_ help you again. With anything." He promised. Mycroft watched him for a moment, knowing he was speaking the truth.

"Just... Please, get her here quickly. I want to know what Mia Wajnapel has planned." Mycroft sighed in a begging tone of voice.

And all the while, Mia was listening to them, loving every minute of it.

"Maybe this isn't the right place to be discussing this." John said quietly, eyeing up Mia warily. The Holmes brothers both followed his eye line to the smiling Wajnapel, and agreed. They all walked outside and shut and locked the door.

"Right, _I_ will call her, but I can't promise that she'll agree. She's busy with exams." John said, taking his phone out and dialling his sisters number.

After a rather long discussion of the merits of returning to London, Claudia finally agreed to return. For one night only. To talk to Mia. In this fifteen minute conversation, she'd demanded to talk to both Sherlock and Mycroft, as well as John, and had argued her point to all three of them.

It had been Sherlock who convinced her to come back, making her feel guilty and calling her sweet names until she relented and began looking up the nearest train times.

Approximately four hours later and Claudia had returned, looking worn out and annoyed.

"I've travelled for nine hours today. She'd best have a lot to tell me." She snapped, thrusting a small suitcase into Sherlock's arms and marching into 221B Baker Street where they'd returned as they waited for her.

"Thanks for coming, Claude." John called from the kitchen, where he'd made them all tea.

"Whatever." She sighed, collapsing into a chair and sulking. Sherlock delicately put her case on the couch and crouched down next to her with a smile on his face. She knew he was trying to apologise to her.

"Thank you, _my love._" He told her, causing her to smirk, and he tucked a few strands of her wavy hair behind her ear.

"Why did she even ask for me?" Claudia then asked as John brought the tea out.

"Because you're _wonderful._" Sherlock exaggerated, causing John to frown. He was sucking up to her.

"You're ridiculous." Claudia laughed at him, just as his face turned serious and he snatched her left hand. She looked affronted and frowned at him. "What?" She asked.

"You're wearing your wedding ring as well as your engagement ring. You usually only wear one." He accused.

"I didn't want to lose it." Claudia snatched her hand back and shouted at him. He stood up.

"Do you want me to wear mine?" He asked quietly, quickly and awkwardly.

"You don't have to if you don't want to. It's just safer for me to wear them." Claudia lied on the spot. She wore them because she desired too.

"I don't mind, either way." Sherlock replied, really not knowing what to do. Was she telling the truth and she really didn't care if he wore it or not, or was she subtly telling him she would like it if he did wear it?

His eyes darted to John's for advice, and he nodded and touched his left ring finger. Sherlock subtly smiled in return, thankful for the warning. She'd like it if he wore it.

He dropped her hand and dashed off, and when he returned, he was wearing it. Claudia smiled when she saw him.

John decided it was his time to leave, once again giving them some privacy.

"Are you not worried about your 'street cred' when you go back to Scotland Yard?" Claudia asked when he sat next to her.

"I really couldn't care less what they thought." He admitted, smiling at her happily, his eyes crinkling around the edges.

And then it hit him. Christ. She had managed to turn him slightly more human than John had done. Obviously, he was still the ice man to anyone else other than the Watson siblings (in very different ways, of course,) but he found that he was able to say things that were actually nice and not get embarrassed. It was nice, it was liberating, but it was distracting. He knew that, and he tried not to let it bother him too much. It was much nicer to have Claudia than to not have her, and he didn't want to ruin what they had all because his concentration wasn't 100% there. It was 99% there, instead.

"You don't mind helping, do you?" He asked delicately, intently watching her reaction to the question. She seemed to relax into her chair, her head turned against the cushion so she could still see him as she smiled fondly at him.

"Course not. It's a good reason to come back." She admitted, flushing slightly. His fingers gently brushed her cheek, feeling the heat of the peach colour dotting her skin.

"You look lovely when you blush." He told her quietly, and her blush deepened as her smile grew.

"Do we have to go and talk to this girl straight away?" She asked suggestively.

"It is a bit urgent." Sherlock said, ruining the moment he'd so lovingly built up. Claudia grinned.

"Okay." She relented.

"Why?" He asked, frowning.

"Never mind." She said, lacing her fingers through his and kissing him. It started light and deepened into something more heavy, laced with urgency and need. They were both well aware that realistically she could _really_ only spend one more night before she absolutely had to go back home. And they were going to be wasting some of that well needed private time together by talking to this bratty French girl, whom they'd suddenly both lost interest in.

"I could stay here forever." Claudia sighed happily.

"Me too." Sherlock admitted.

#####

**I promised fluff and lo! Fluff! I hope it fulfilled your fluffy needs. I made it as awkward but sweet as ever, just how you like it. **

**Thank you for all your welcome backs, it's nice to know I was missed! I hope you liked this chapter too, as I once again illustrate that the two of them just can't stay away from each other.**

**Please comment and tell me what you think, because it makes my day each time I read what you have to say.**

**-Fay xox**


	20. The Argument

"You have her?" Mia asked urgently, sitting up.

"Yes. She's here. You can see her." Sherlock said cautiously, standing over Mia with his hands in his pockets as he stared at her.

"Only her. Nobody else in the room." Mia ordered. Sherlock nodded begrudgingly. He nodded for her to walk in, and Claudia nervously walked over to her and took a seat.

Mia watched as Sherlock touched Claudia's shoulder before quickly walking out and shutting the door.

Claudia watched expectantly at Mia, wondering why she'd insisted on speaking only to her.

"Have you ever been so desperate that you would do absolutely anything to make everything all right?" Mia suddenly asked. Claudia thought for a moment.

"No." She said, after careful consideration.

"But you understand?" Mia then asked.

"Yes." Claudia replied.

"Then you need to help me. I want my own life. Please, Claudia, help me." Mia begged. Claudia nervously crossed her legs and leaned forwards, pursing her lips when she considered what to say next.

Was she supposed to help her? Sherlock had told her about the codes and passwords she'd brought over into the country for whatever reason, of course. But she was obviously desperate, she'd have done anything to get into the country. If that meant promising to bring the codes across, then so be it.

"What are you going to do if I help you?" Claudia asked quietly.

"Run away. Just get away from everything and live a secluded life. It's the life I've been dreaming of since I was a little girl and I watched my brother being dragged from his bed at night and taken into a van." Mia explained. Claudia winced.

"Okay. Fine. I get that bit. But why did you bring a load of codes with you into the country?" Claudia then asked. It was the first Mia had heard about them actually knowing about the codes.

"I made a promise to a certain man that I'd bring them across, and he promised that he'd let me across the border. I wasn't going to do anything with them." Mia sighed.

"What are they for?" Claudia then asked.

"I'm not sure. I think it was to do with homeland security. The government database has twenty password screens. Those codes are a password. You're then allowed limited access to their records, which shows you everything from nuclear weapon stores to convicted criminals." Mia explained, reluctantly knowing that if she parted with some of the truth, Claudia would probably help her.

"What were you going to do with them?" Claudia asked with a harder tone, trying to seem dangerous. She wasn't very good at it.

"Nothing, Claudia Holmes. I promise." Mia said sincerely, taking her hands and staring into her eyes.

"What do you need me to do?" Claudia whispered.

"I need a phone call. They won't allow me one. But I have a man over here who's expecting me. He's going to help me get a whole new identity, and I just need to tell him I'm not dead." Mia smiled sarcastically, sitting back and letting Claude go.

Claudia took her phone out and slowly passed it over. Faster than Claudia could have done, Mia had dialled a number and rang it.

In a number of seconds since handing the phone over, Mia was snarling something through to the other line in French, looking at the back of her hand as she did so.

Claudia frowned and also looked at the hand, to find a series of numbers and letters scrawled there.

Claudia's eyes widened when she realised she'd been played. She'd said twenty codes. Sherlock had only collected nineteen wrappers.

The other was written on the back of her hand and Mia was telling it to the man on the other end of the phone.

"Sherlock!" Claudia shouted, running to the door and opening it. The man was there in a second, storming into the room. When he saw what was happening he smacked Mia's wrist hard, causing her to drop Claudia's phone. Mia shrieked and shouted what Claudia assumed was obscenities in French at them both.

"What the Hell have you done?" Sherlock shouted at Claudia, causing her to stand back and recoil as if she'd been slapped. "Oh, you really are a brain dead imbecile, aren't you? The same as everybody else. I had higher expectations of you than that, Miss Watson." Sherlock snapped.

John was soon there, pulling her from the room and sitting her down outside. She tried to resist being taken away like a petulant child, but Mycroft had joined the men with Mia and a shouting match had ensued. She gave up.

John went back into the room and the argument stopped with a few sharp words from John.

"Get her out of here." Mycroft shouted, glaring at the laughing Mia. "Sherlock, I think it's best that you take your _wife_ home." He then sighed, closing his eyes and turning away from them.

"Come on, this wasn't Claudia's fault. You put her in there, on her own, with a high risk security threat." John said quietly, and Claudia also closed her eyes, slumping against the wall slightly. She had let everyone down.

"Yes, John. I suppose it is my fault. Maybe I should have taken her through a two hour presentation on what _not_ to do with a security threat. I think number one on the list would be something along the lines of- 'Do not give them any communications devices.'" Mycroft said sarcastically.

"All right." John shouted.

"I'll stay here. John, take her home." Sherlock said, handing him some money for the cab. John glared at him, causing him to relent. "Please." He allowed.

Even Mycroft looked surprised at that.

John sighed and left the brothers to it. He left the room and watched Claudia as she seemingly went into a coma, her eyes not even flickering open when she heard him walk in.

He sighed and sat down next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her over to him.

"It's not that bad, Claude." John assured her.

"How?" She mumbled.

"I'm sure now that Mycroft knows what they're doing with the codes, he can get one of his boffins to fix it all up before any damage is done." John explained. Claudia nodded.

"Promise?" She asked quietly.

"I can't promise anything." John admitted. Claudia smiled and finally opened her eyes.

"I want to get drunk and go to sleep." She told him quietly.

"Will your big brother do as a companion?" He asked.

"Course he will." Claudia grinned. John stood up and pulled Claudia up with him.

As they were leaving, the door behind them opened.

"Claudia." Sherlock called. She walked over to him, hoping for some reassuring words. Instead, he handed her her phone back and shut the door.

####

"Let's get Carla out!" Claudia exclaimed, as she finished her fifth rum and coke. John smirked and raised his eyebrows as he finished his first pint.

"I'm fine with that." He nodded. It wasn't as if he was going to turn down spending time with his new girlfriend. "But, maybe have a rum and coke **without** the rum, now." John advised. "You're upset about this because you feel you let everyone down, but you haven't. Yes, they're angry right now, but they'll calm down. I bet they've sorted it all out." John said calmly to the now sulking girl.

"I wanted to get very drunk, and I'm only slightly drunk. I'll have a rum and coke **with** the rum, please." Claudia told him. "I'll go and call Carla."

He watched her stagger away with a worried look on his face. He ordered her a rum and coke **without** the rum.

####

The two Holmes brothers watched with folded arms as Mia was finally carted away by police, having had solid evidence stacked against her.

"At least Claudia's not completely useless. She got information neither of us managed to get." Mycroft relented, watching the police van drive away quickly, sirens blaring.

"She's not useless." Sherlock snapped, defending her.

"Oh, come on, Sherlock. She's given security risks a huge advantage." Mycroft replied as they walked back into the warehouse to gather their belongings before moving on to Scotland Yard.

"John was slightly right. She shouldn't have been in there alone. You know what Claudia is like. She's very compassionate." Sherlock stuck up for her. Mycroft turned to look at his brother, watching him pick his phone up and check for calls.

"She won't have contacted you. She's embarrassed." Mycroft claimed, looking at the phone that had no missed calls from his wife. Sherlock ignored him and pocketed the phone, storming from the warehouse before his brother could say anything else to annoy him.

"Maybe keep her away from crime scenes in the future." Mycroft called. That was it for Sherlock. He marched back to his brother.

"Who was the one who demanded Claudia be brought back from Manchester? Who was the one who insisted she talk to Mia? It was you, Mycroft. So don't blame me, or Claudia, or John. This was you. _I _will sort this out and _I_ will figure out what these people want. Not you. Now piss off and leave us alone." Sherlock snarled angrily, before finally leaving and getting into a cab.

"Tetchy." Anthea muttered from where she stood beside him. Mycroft shrugged and nodded, tugging on his ear lobe awkwardly.

"He's right, of course." Mycroft relented. "But as if he's going to tell Claudia what he just told me."

####

"Sounds serious." Carla claimed as she leaned against the bar and talked to John, while Claudia sat staring miserably at her phone.

"Sort of. It probably sounds worse than it is. I know Sherlock will sort it out." John smiled.

"But she's wasted." Carla laughed dryly, watching as Claudia's eyes gradually began to close. "Ah, the wonderful best friend duty. I should get her home." She said, putting her bag on her shoulder and walking to the sleepy Claudia.

"She does have a husband, you know. He'll have to come and get her, and we can enjoy the night." John suggested. He wasn't exactly trying to shun Claudia off, but he would enjoy having a night out for a change.

"Who's going to tell him this?" Carla asked, smirking when she knew it would probably have to be her.

"Here's the plan. You ring him, tell him you've found her drunken on a pavement outside and he needs to help you." John suggested, taking her phone and dialling Sherlock's number. He handed her the phone back.

"I'm not saying that." Carla claimed. "Hello, Sherlock!" She exclaimed awkwardly when he answered. "I have Claudia with me. I, er- Found her on a pavement outside. Very drunk. I need your help." She smacked John when he began to laugh. She listened for a second and then found that he'd hung up. "He's coming, but he knows I lied." She winced.

"Course he does." John said, going to the bar to get more drinks.

Five minutes later and an angry looking Sherlock waltzed into the bar, heading straight to Claudia's direction. She had her head on the table in front of her as she slept, and a few men were lingering around her, just waiting to chat the drunk girl up. Carla and John were both sat next to her, chatting while Carla absently rubbed Claudia's back.

"Claudia." Sherlock snapped. She sat up abruptly and smacked her head on the chair rest behind her. She groaned and held her head. He sighed and watched her. She finally opened her eyes and squinted at him.

"What?" She demanded, rather weakly as her head was still hurting.

"Time to go home, now." Sherlock said, irritated and short tempered.

"I want to stay here." Claudia whined. "You're just going to shout at me, and then ignore me, and make me feel stupid. I want to go home on my own." She claimed, actually rather soberly eyeing him up.

"I'm not letting you go home on your own." He sighed, linking his hands behind his back as he stared coldly at her. "You can't even sit up without smacking your head." He reminded her.

"Sherly, I'm sorry." She whined, and let her head fall back on the table, blinking heavily and then closing her eyes completely again.

Sherlock begrudgingly sat next to her and awkwardly patted her back, taking Carla's place.

"What you did was... Stupid and irresponsible, but I am going to deal with it. You know, right now there is someone hacking into one of the most secure databases in the world, but we know about it now. We can stop it."

"Don't be nice. It doesn't suit you." Claudia mumbled.

"I'm always nice." Sherlock frowned, sitting back in his seat and watching her back. Claudia sniggered and then whined slightly.

She managed to pull herself up, wincing against the light of the pub and then stood up. She staggered slightly but managed to leave the pub in one piece.

"Bye Claude!" Carla and John both called worriedly.

Sherlock quickly stood and followed her, jogging when he saw her speeding up.

"Come on, Claude. Home time." He told her, taking her shoulders and turning her around, making her walk the other way.

"I want some tea." Claudia said.

"I'll get you some tea." Sherlock promised, pushing her slightly as they walked down the road.

"I've messed it all up. I'm sorry. I will sort it out." She told him, stopping suddenly in the pavement and staring at him.

"How, exactly, would you sort it?" He asked her seriously.

"Get someone good with computers to stop them hacking it." Claudia shrugged. "Because of me, some weird threat people are hacking into some security records. I will stop it." She grinned at her husband.

"I think you should probably sleep first, and we can discuss it in the morning." Sherlock said, nodding and walking off again. Claudia, with a new spring in her step, skipped after him and linked his arm.

"You still mad at me?" She asked.

"Of course I am." He replied, but somehow, his words just didn't ring true with his thoughts. "You're an idiot." He then told her, enjoying being the one in the right for once. He was going to make her pay for all the times she'd shouted at _him_ and been angry at _him_, and he was going to enjoy it!

"Remember when you locked me and John in that lab and scared us half to death?" Claudia slurred rather cheerfully, and Sherlock gritted his teeth.

"Remember when you gave your phone to a high risk threat and let her ring her accomplice?" Sherlock retorted.

"Oh, no. That happened to slip my mind considering it was only today." Claudia scoffed sarcastically.

"Lestrade wants to interview you, you know." Sherlock smirked, resisting the urge to laugh when he had to stop her from falling.

"I'm fine with that." Claudia told him, smiling falsely and trying not to panic over that fact.

"You avoided eye contact, your pulse quickened and you're flushed. Liar." Sherlock told her.

"I'm going home on my own." Claudia suddenly snapped, having had enough of him. "You're just insulting me all the time and then you tell me I'm an idiot, which I'm not because I'm doing really well with my degree... What you said to me before was really horrible. Brain dead imbecile?! And you called me Miss Watson!" She exclaimed, having to stop because she was drunkenly crying. Sherlock rolled his eyes as she slumped to the ground against a building and dramatically sobbed. "I just really want to go home but I'm not going with you because you're an arse hole." She cried in a very high pitched wavering voice.

Sherlock was lost. What was he supposed to do in this situation? He watched as Claudia took both rings from her ring finger and put them on the pavement next to her, glaring at Sherlock as she did so.

"Okay, I'll just leave you then." Sherlock said, the only sentence that he thought might work with a drunken and emotional wife. He walked about ten steps when he heard her shuffling to her feet, picking her rings up and running after him. He didn't stop walking. She then stopped running and paused to take her heels off. When she caught up with him, she gave him her heels to carry.

"Thanks. Just what I wanted." He said sarcastically. She was still crying, sniffling miserably as she tried to keep up with him.

She peeked at him from the corner of her eye as she gave a particularly sad sniff, and he sighed.

He quickly put his arm around her, pulled her closer as they walked and kissed her forehead.

And so they walked home in silence, their actions portraying more than words could say. The odd image of a tall detective all in black -apart from his scarf- with particularly nice cheekbones, carrying a pair of heels in one hand and his opposite arm around a drunken girls shoulder. The drunken girl who happened to be his wife, clutching her engagement and wedding rings in her hand as she tried not to trip. Perfect.

####

**Sorry it took me a while to do this one. I've been writing it for a couple of days now. Usually when I write a chapter, I write it all in one. I don't even know what I'm trying to say with this. And yes, I know, realistically, Sherlock wouldn't have forgiven her for being so stupid, but I'm writing this so whatever. ;)**

**Keep your reviews coming, guys! **

**-Fay xox**


	21. Complicated Musings

_**Go melt back in the night, babe. Everything inside is made of stone. -Bob Dylan**_

Time went past very quickly when involved with Sherlock Holmes. One minute it seemed like Claudia's whole world was on fire. She'd caused a security breakdown, what with the Wajnapel family trying to break down the government from the outside. The next minute, Mycroft employed the right people for the job and had neutralised any threat. All members of the Wajanpel family had been locked up, with no way of getting out. It seemed like an inconclusive end to it all, but as Mycroft always told her in the years after the event- the beginning doesn't matter if the conclusion is satisfying. It was his way of forgiving her and in turn, asking for her forgiveness.

Sherlock Holmes was a naked flame- You touch him and you're burnt. He's the drug to which you're addicted, the life that flows through your very veins. But he's also the scars that are left from the burns, and the decay that comes hand in hand with drugs. He's the death that waits for you at every street corner. One moment you're living a mundane life, the next you're battling for your very consciousness.

It had already been three weeks since the Wajnapel incident, and Claudia had finished her exams. She was temporarily living in London- staying there for a week and then going up north for a week to spend time with friends. It was perfect. And she had a long holiday away from the stress of university. She had exactly two months before she even got her exam results. And in that time, she had Christmas and New Year to look forward to.

Sherlock had actually been rather pleasant through the course of her exams. While she'd been incredibly stressed, he'd tried his hardest to be nice. He had texted her after every exam to ask how it went. He'd been reassuring her that she'd be fine. That wasn't to say that when her exams had finished he'd continued to stay lovely- it wasn't quite that good. He'd obviously not felt the need to be a good husband then, and had reverted to normal Sherlock. Claudia assumed John had something to do with him being nice to her in the first place. But despite his flaws...

Claudia often found she had this inane desire to make him proud of her. To not let him down. And occasionally, that meant having to do very dangerous things to protect him. She had to please him, or he might just get bored of her- and that would be the end of her world.

She knew John felt it too. Not as passionately, of course, but that desire to please him still coursed through his veins.

What she thought would be a languorous last year in Manchester ended up being one of the most exciting, thrilling and terrifying years of her life.

One of the hardest points of Claudia's languorous year had nothing to do with herself. It had nothing to do with Sherlock. It was about her brother, and Carla.

The brother and the best friend. She supposed it was the same in John's point of view. His sister and his best friend. She was the only girl Claudia would approve of for her older brother- and Carla knew it as much as John did.

The odd thing about girls is, when they've spent so much time together, and are so closely knitted as Claudia and Carla were, they tell each other things they'd never dare tell t else. They don't tell their mother about their first time with a boy. It's the best friend they turn to. When they're having boy troubles, it's the best friend who is furious and tries to 'sort him out' for her. And when Carla was having a social and ethical dilemma- she turned to Claudia.

"Oh, Claude. I think I'm pregnant." Carla cried as she perched on her bed with her legs crossed and a tear-stained tissue clutched in her shaking hands.

Claudia didn't speak for a few minutes. She simply stared at the girl in front of her with what looked like denial, shock and mild horror.

"Really?" She finally choked out. Carla nodded. "And... Ooh. John." Claudia then managed to say. Carla nodded once more. "Oh dear." Claudia said, reaching out and hugging her best friend tightly.

"What am I going to do? I've only been with him for a few months!" Carla exclaimed, relaxing slightly when Claudia let her go and began gently smoothing her frizzy hair from her face.

"Well, you can mull that over for a bit while I go and get you a pregnancy test. Then you can know for certain." Claudia said, standing up and grabbing her bag.

"Don't leave me!" Carla called after her. Claudia simply smirked.

"I'll be five minutes." She promised, grabbing Carla's keys to her flat so she could let herself back in when she came back.

Claudia leaned against the door slightly as she gathered her thoughts. She hadn't wanted to show her displeasure in front of Carla- in case it freaked her out even more. She cursed them both for being so irresponsible. But she felt undeniably sorry for Carla, _and_ John. Carla was not ready to be a mother, and John had only just battled his demons to be faced with making sure another little person didn't have any demons in the first place. They were not ready.

She collected her thoughts and began walking to the local chemists. The bell that sounded as she walked into the shop made her jump. Her nerves had been shaken. The unnaturally tanned woman behind the counter gave an unnatural smile than unnerved Claudia slightly.

"Where are your, er, pregnancy tests?" She asked. The woman pointed them out with a sharp smile. "It's not for me. It's for a friend." Claudia said, aware that it sounded like a lie. The woman smirked then.

"We're all friends here, my love. You don't have to hide anything." She said. Claudia nodded, too tired to argue her case.

She took one of the good tests, ones which tell you how far gone you are. She paid for it and left the chemists as quickly as she possibly could.

When she emerged, she quickly scanned the road to see if she could cross. As she did so, she swore she could see a tall, dark figure sprinting away in the distance. She swore he had well defined cheek bones.

The moment of truth is always the hardest part of any surprise. Not just scary things like pregnancy tests- but mundane things like gift giving. The moment of truth being- WILL THEY LIKE IT? That's always a scary moment too. Now- add to that a couple of tense minutes of waiting time, and the moment of truth turned from scary to awful.

That's how both Claudia and Carla felt as they waited for the stick to tell them what was going on.

They were silent for the whole two minutes, and when those were up, Claudia was the one to grab the stick.

She read it and looked up.

"You're not pregnant." Claudia managed to spit out. Carla snatched the stick from Claudia and a small smile lit up her features.

"Well, there we are then." She sighed, sagging slightly against the bathroom counter. "Panic over, I suppose." She put the stick down.

"And the moral of the story is?" Claudia urged.

"Be safe." Carla replied, like a child being told off by its mother.

"Exactly. Are you going to tell him? About the scare?" Claudia then asked.

"Maybe. I don't know. Probably not. It'd just freak him out." Carla nodded. "I'm relieved. Is that horrid, Claude? To be relieved." Carla asked.

"No." Claudia reassured her. "It just means that you're not ready."

#####

With a sigh Claudia returned to Baker Street a few hours later, dramatically falling into her seat and closing her eyes to try and block out her thoughts. Her day had been hard, and now she had to keep it a secret from John, which would be hard. What would be harder was hiding it from Sherlock, who would know something was wrong with her the moment his eyes glanced over her.

To her dismay, Sherlock was already sat in the living room, on John's laptop. Claudia assumed he was checking his website for a case. He had a cigarette in his right hand, its smoke circling the room and causing the air to be stale and stifling. It curled around the corners of the room and made her want to choke. She opened the window.

It was only when the window banged open that Sherlock seemed to even realise her presence. He probably hadn't even noticed she'd gone out. Only when he stood up and went to his bedroom did Claudia suspect something was wrong. He'd usually be taunting her, unconsciously annoying her, blaming her for various things that had gone wrong with his day.

And he'd dropped his cigarette on the carpet. She growled under her breath and picked it up, throwing it out of the window before it started a fire.

"What's wrong with him?" John asked as he walked out from his own bedroom and smelt his wrist, apparently trying out the new aftershave he'd bought.

"How should I know?" Claudia asked, holding her head out of the window to try and calm down her flushed cheeks. She was terrible at keeping information from people.

"You're his wife." John snorted, amused, as he sat down and picked up the newspaper from the coffee table. He had to manoeuvre around the vacuum packed finger that had been left there.

"Oh yeah." Claudia said, unwillingly laughing when she realised that. She often forgot. She turned around and leaned against the window, looking at him. "Anything interesting?" She asked, eyeing up the newspaper.

"Not yet." John said after a long pause, turning the page. "Carla said you spent the day together today. That's nice." John briefly looked up and smiled. Did he know?

"Oh. Yeah. A much needed girls day." Claudia laughed nervously and shoved her head out of the window again. John frowned.

"Are you okay?" He asked. "You can't be hot. It's October. It's bloody freezing." He commented.

"I don't know. I just need some fresh air. He's been smoking again." She said. Good save. He nodded with understanding.

"I thought I could smell it." He frowned, scrunching his nose up slightly. "Let's sabotage, Claude. Where's his supply now?" He asked, throwing the paper on the floor and pulling Claudia from the window. Together they tried to find his supply of cigarettes.

After fifteen minutes of fruitless searching, Claudia realised that he must have them in the bedroom.

"I'll go and sneakily look for them." She winked at her brother, and casually went into the room. Sherlock was led on the bed with his eyes closed, flat on his back. Maybe he wouldn't even notice if she began routing through his possessions...

"You and John don't talk that quietly, you know. I do know what you're doing. You won't find them in here." Sherlock told her, his voice hard and cold.

"Okay. Ice Man." She rolled her eyes at him and continued looking anyway. "Sometimes I think you want to kill yourself. Well this isn't a nice way of doing it. I doubt even you would be happy to go through months of agony, being strapped to oxygen machines just to stay alive." Claudia ranted.

"No. Quite right. The most efficient way of killing myself would be hanging. It's quick, simple, and quite obviously suicide. They could wrap it up in minutes. No need to investigate. The only thing they'd need to worry about is covering the bruise on my neck for the media." Sherlock said without opening his eyes.

"That's a sick thing to say, Sherlock Holmes." Claudia snapped. "If you're in a bad mood just tell me what's wrong. You don't have to be awful."

"You've been flushed. Sticking your face out the window to cool down. You've had mood swings, as you just proved. Pull everything out of your pockets for me." He asked, finally opening his eyes and sitting up. Claudia did so, bemused.

"And look. What a lovely receipt." Sherlock said, pointing to the one from the Chemists. For a pregnancy test.

"Oh God." She said, putting a hand to her forehead. Sherlock looked at her stomach and led back down, closing his eyes. What he hadn't expected was for her to burst into laughter. That was unusual, for someone who was feeling the effects of being pregnant. "It was you running past me today!" She exclaimed. Sherlock cracked an eye open and watched her grinning face. She suddenly turned serious. "Well, I suppose you know now. You're going to be a baby daddy. A little Sherlock is going to be running around. Sherlock Junior. Sherlock the Second. Pint Sized Sherlock." Claudia rambled, sitting on the edge of the bed. He ignored her. Which of course, only made her continue with her rambling. "How do you feel about that, Daddy? He's going to end up just like Mycroft, I just know it." She was openly grinning now, and he knew he'd got the wrong end of the stick.

"So I was wrong." He snapped. That only made her grin widen.

"Have you actually just admitted that you were wrong?" She asked him, kneeling up and moving closer to him. He stared warily back at her.

"Yes." He murmured, closing his eyes.

"This is a moment to go down in history." Claudia grinned, taking a mental picture.

"Piss off." Sherlock hissed. "Are you planning on telling John that he might have had the pleasure of being a father?" He asked quietly, having the satisfaction of watching Claudia's smile turn to a frown.

"You know I don't." She told him. "No need to be nasty about it. You were the one who hated me because you thought I was pregnant." Claudia snapped.

"I didn't hate you." Sherlock claimed rather calmly, causing her to scoff at him and edge away slightly. His hand then darted out and grabbed her wrist, keeping her firmly in place.

"I'm not mad. How else were you going to react?" She asked, patting his hand until he believed her and let her go. "But what do I do? Do I tell him? I told Carla I wouldn't. It's not like there _was_ a baby. It's just- if she did have thoughts, shouldn't she have told him?" Claudia rambled, collapsing back on the bed and turning to him as if he could shed more information on her. He simply blinked in response.

"You're great for moral support." Claudia muttered, and once again he didn't reply. They simply continued to lie there, staring at each other.

#####

"_Why would he be interested in someone like me, though? Do you not think it's odd? Someone so intelligent, and brilliant. I'm good at one thing. History. That's it. He doesn't even like History, John. What am I doing? I'm just wasting my days with someone who's going to cause me more pain in the long run. Yes, he makes me happy. But I don't think I make him happy." _

"_**Don't be an idiot, Claude. Why would he want to be with someone like himself? He wants someone the opposite. Bright and cheery- who doesn't enjoy looking at dead people but is also intelligent enough to understand that it's his job and his passion. I don't know, Claude. You ask the most difficult questions."**_

"_He could be with someone like Molly. Really clever. What's he going to get from me? I can't just stay in a dead end relationship forever, John."_

"_**I know what this is. You've been listening to too many 60's love songs, girl. You want someone who showers their love on you. And he doesn't, does he? And you don't want to force him to change." **_

"_Exactly. I like him a lot, but I don't see a future with him. Not without really changing him, anyway. And I don't want to change him. That'd be awful. But I really can't see a way of moving us forwards if he doesn't change." _

"_**Just think it through. Please don't do anything irrational. Take a couple of months and think it through."**_

"_Okay."_

**#####**

"Why didn't you tell me?" John demanded, slamming the door shut as he walked into the flat and stared at his sister who was reading a magazine.

"What?" She asked, looking up at him. The thought that he might've known about Carla hadn't crossed her mind- the whole incident had been a couple of weeks before.

"That Carla thought she was pregnant." John said. Claudia grew cold.

"I didn't think it was my place to tell you." She said quietly.

"You're my sister. Why wouldn't it be your place? I didn't have a clue, Claude. How scary is that? She didn't tell me. Doesn't it say wonderful things about our relationship if she couldn't tell me that she thought she was pregnant?" John demanded, collapsing next to Claudia.

"I would have told you if she was pregnant, John. She wouldn't have wanted to for a while, but I would've. As soon as I could. But she isn't pregnant, so I didn't think it would be wise to tell you. Please don't be mad. Calm down- have you shouted at her?" Claudia asked.

He thought for a moment. "No, I haven't. I'm just disappointed that she didn't tell me." John replied, slinging an arm around her.

It was at that point that Sherlock slammed the door open and practically fell to the ground, clutching his head with one hand and using the other to prop himself up on the couch.

"What's happened?" Claudia panicked, leaping from the couch and helping him up. John did the same, and they both supported him.

"What do you think happened? I went skipping through a field of candy floss with my fairy friends." He snapped.

"Alright, Sherlock." John warned.

"I got in a fight." He hissed, sitting down and closing his eyes.

"Don't go to sleep." John shouted as he rushed to get his doctors bag.

Meanwhile, Claudia stroked his hair back from his face and tried to concentrate on Sherlock, and not on the fact that she didn't want this life anymore. A life of almost being killed, of the constant worry, the unknown. She didn't like it and it didn't suit her. She wanted to give it up and run away, but she was scared of getting lost.

#####

**Bit of a cliff hanger there, guys! Not so sure about this chapter. I got a little bit of writers block. And this is very much a filler chapter with barely any Shlaudia fluff. Oh well. And there's not going to be much to come, either. As you can tell. **

**Sorry about the evilness of this chapter, and my upcoming story plans. I have it all worked out in my head and it's pretty evil. Sorry in advance. **

**I'll make my next chapter a filler, but it'll be fluffy! I promise! And that'll be it for the fluff, I'm thinking. (Sorry.)**

**You'll understand when the time comes.**

**Also, sorry this is late out. I've been working a lot more than I ever have due to being on summer break, so I've been really tired! I'll update once more this week, once probably at the weekend and then I won't be able to update until late next week because I'm away with some D of E thing. (Sorry.)**

**My life is full of apologies.**

**Please review and keep me motivated! You never know, I might update tomorrow night for you instead. Do you want to be left on the edge of the cliff? (Sorry for the blackmail.)**

**-Fay xox**


	22. Understanding

_**Maybe I wanted you to change. Maybe I'm the one to blame. -Gabrielle Aplin **_

"Who did you get in a fight with?" Claudia murmured as she washed away some of the dried blood on his forehead. The cut there was quite large, and was gently bleeding. Sherlock seemed nonplussed, casually sitting in his seat and staring at the wallpaper.

"A security guard." Sherlock replied.

"Let me guess the situation. You broke in somewhere, the security guard found you, you annoyed him, and he whacked you?" Claudia asked, sighing slightly as she put her cloth back in the warm water and watched as swirls of red infested the water. She put it to one side and took the antiseptic.

She put a bit on the cloth and quickly dabbed his head, causing him to hiss and glare at her. "That hurt." He snarled. She ignored him, and continued cleaning him up. "It's not a hard concept to grasp, Claude. You're hurting me." He told her smoothly, glancing up at her but realising that she wasn't in the mood when she refused to look back.

John walked in with some new bandages, and took over from Claudia. She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. John bandaged his head up and then sat in his arm chair.

"What case were you on?" John asked.

"I had reason to believe that a man had kidnapped his estranged ex-wife and locked her in his basement at work. I didn't even get chance to look." Sherlock grumbled.

"Couldn't you have told the police to get a search warrant and look? They all worship the ground you walk on – mostly – you didn't actually have to be so reckless." Claudia said, and grew pale slightly. Her eyes widened and her lower lip trembled. John frowned, not understanding what she was upset about.

Sherlock, of course, had noticed her reaction to the words she'd said, but also didn't know what had made her upset. She was actually probably right. Not that he'd ever admit it to her face.

Nobody said anything as she took the TV remote and turned it on, turning the volume up and trying to drown her almost audible sorrow out of the air by watching the soaps.

"Boring." Sherlock sighed, darting to the coat hook and putting his coat on.

"You're not going out, Sherlock. You've got blood all over you, a black eye, and a bandage around your head. They'll think you're a mass murderer." John called, quickly rushing downstairs before Sherlock had the chance. He locked the front door and snatched Sherlock's key from the bowl, pocketing it and coming back upstairs.

"I can pick locks, you know. And although your concern is touching... Really, you're not a family member and therefore cannot lock me away." Sherlock informed his friend with his hands in his pockets.

"Yes I am. Brother-in-law." John reminded him, sitting back down in his chair. Sherlock grumbled to himself and went in to his bedroom, probably to get his lock picking kit.

"Oh, just let him go. If he wants to get sectioned, let him." Claudia sighed, turning the volume down slightly. She reached over to John and plucked the keys from his arm rest. She threw them into Sherlock's bedroom and sat back down, earning a discerning look from her brother. She shrugged and got back to Eastenders.

Sherlock had left the flat in less than a minute, without so much as a thank you to Claudia. Or a good bye.

"You're not holding it together very well. I thought you weren't going to do anything irrational." John said. "And what got you so upset before?" He then asked.

"I was trying to change him, John. Trying to make him think straight. It's entirely the opposite of what I wanted to do. I just hate this life, but I think I'd hate a boring life too." Claudia tried to explain.

"I don't think you know what you want." John informed her.

"Maybe I should get a dog or something. Or a cat." Claudia shrugged, sitting back. John smirked.

"Get one then. I'm sure Mrs Hudson wouldn't mind having a pet around. She'd probably like it."

"Should I?" Claudia was suddenly cheered up.

"Definitely." John grinned. He would do anything to make his sister happy again, and if that meant helping her get a pet, then so be it. "Dog or cat?" He asked her.

"Cat." Claudia replied, as John got his laptop and switched it on. He waited a moment before typing something in.

"Here we go. Hundreds of kittens for sale in London. Take your pick." John handed her the laptop.

"Are you serious?" Claudia laughed, taking it and beginning to look for what she wanted. "Ginger, tabby, Siamese. What about this one? Black haired, one month old. How cute?" She cooed, showing him the picture of the tiny thing.

"Give them a ring." John said, throwing the phone at her. She caught it and dialled the number. John muted Eastenders and listened intently.

"Hello, I'm calling about the kitten you have for sale?" She asked. "Perfect. Can I come and pick her up tomorrow?" She asked. "Fabulous. My name's Claudia, by the way. See you tomorrow." She said, and hung up. She grinned manically at John.

"We need to go pet shopping tomorrow." She informed him.

#####

Sherlock didn't come home that night. He knew what was happening with his relationship with Claudia. Of course he did. She was getting sick of him, of his unreliability, his unromanticism and his reckless demeanour.

He decided to drown his apparent sorrow with finding this kidnapped woman. God knows where he'd put her, but he'd definitely put her somewhere.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Wasn't important, he decided.

He continued walking down the dark London street, watching as the cabs sped past him, carrying people who were living their lives. How he wished for a mass murder sometime soon. That would take all of his idle trivialities darting around his head and push them to one side for a while. And that would be perfect.

His phone began buzzing continuously, someone was ringing him. He sighed and took his phone out. It was Claudia. He held the phone to his ear and pressed the accept button.

"A body has been found in the Thames, with rocks in the pockets to make it sink. Don't know who it is. Could be that missing woman." Claudia's voice sounded grainy, like she was travelling.

"Oh, Claudia. I could kiss you! Where are you and John? At the flat?" He asked, quickly walking down the road and hailing a cab.

"On our way to Scotland Yard." Claudia replied, somewhat hazily.

"See you there." Sherlock replied, and hung up. He climbed in his cab and directed the driver where to go.

#####

"I'm glad you're making the effort, Claude. He'll appreciate it too. He knows you don't like doing this stuff." John told her as they got out of the cab and made their way into the large building.

Inside it was a rush. Officers sped around as quickly as they could, holding documents and equipment. Claudia spotted Molly Hooper waiting by an office, probably waiting for news of when she could go to St Barts and check it out.

"Molly." John called, and the girl turned around and smiled ditzily.

"Oh! Hello. Are you waiting for news of the body?" She asked. She looked behind them to see if she could spot the tall detective she was used to seeing on days like those.

"Yeah. And he is coming. He's probably in a cab now." John explained, and Claudia had to stop herself from smiling.

"I was watching Lestrade, actually." Molly grinned, waiting as Lestrade unlocked his office and let them in.

John was shocked. Molly was telling the truth. Had she gotten over Sherlock? Would that mean that she'd stop letting him have free access to the morgue when he was bored? On one hand, it would be rather funny to see his aloof charm stop working on her, but on the other hand, John and Claude would be lumbered with him when he was in one of his dead body moods.

"It's her body. I just got the results from Anderson. When Sherlock gets here, I need you four to go to St Barts and take a look at her. She'll have been left with exactly the same things that she was found with, but she has to be taken away from that scene due to the crowds." Lestrade explained.

John nodded, Molly smiled and Claudia looked distressed.

"You can stop your mindless panicking. The real expert is here now." Sherlock said as he walked into the office and took his scarf off, draping it on to Lestrade's desk.

"Actually, we were just heading out. You coming with?" Greg asked, leading them out of his office.

"Of course I'm 'coming with.'" Sherlock said snidely, gingerly taking his scarf and putting it back on. Obviously, he'd been expecting them to wait for him before getting to the gritty details.

When they walked outside, Sally Donovan was waiting for Lestrade by his police car.

"You following in a cab?" Greg asked as he climbed in the drivers seat.

"I want to go in the police car." Claudia grinned. "Will you do it like you're arresting me?" She asked. Greg smiled despite himself, climbing back out of the car.

"Your wish is my command." He told her with a smile, before suddenly frowning at her with such a look of loathing in his features that it actually made Claudia scared, and he brutually led her to the backseat of the car, pushing her head down so she didn't bash it on the door. He slammed the door shut with such a bang it made the car shake. Even Sally was smirking as she got in the car herself.

Lestrade then got back in the front seat and remained stoic until he heard Sherlock's mutters of agitation.

"This is trivial. We're missing out on time here, doing this. Claudia, come on. We're getting a cab." Sherlock called.

"Actually, we're not wasting time because all they're going to do is load the body on to an ambulence. We just need to scan the area." Lestrade said. "Now, just get in the bloody car, Sherlock." He growled. "Claudia, was that what you had in mind?" Greg finally allowed himself to smile again at Claudia, who nodded meekly. "You asked for it." He shrugged.

"Hurry up." Sherlock ordered, already disliking the case enough for what it was. They hadn't waited for him, they knew more than he did and he was forcibly being driven in a police car. He usually had his own rules, and he stuck to them.

Lestrade drove quickly, but didn't bother with the siren. There was already police there- it wasn't an emergency.

They got to the docks of the Thames in under five minutes, and Sherlock couldn't get out of the car quick enough. Claudia followed, and then John. Lestrade and Sally had to run to catch up with them as Sherlock led them straight past the lines of people watching and in to the heart of the action. The yellow crime scene tape was lifted up for them all, and they climbed through.

"Where is she?" Sherlock asked anxiously. "I need to see her untampered with." He shouted.

"She's already in the ambulance, Sherlock. Molly's going to take a look at her at the morgue. It's where she's gone now. We need to look for things nearby." Lestrade explained. Sherlock glared at him.

Claudia and John hung back as the others began looking for clues and hidden traces of the murderer in the grass and mud surrounding the bank of the river.

"I already know it's her ex-husband. This is all pointless." Sherlock hissed as he began inspecting the area around the river.

"See, this life isn't so bad. We just watch the magic happen." John tried to convince Claudia, who was watching sadly as the men tried finding anything to help the case.

"Yeah." She sighed. "I always imagined the man I ended up with to buy me flowers and you know, _tell _me he loved me a lot. I didn't imagine him to love murder cases more than me." She sighed.

"You knew that when you got into the relationship, though. What's changed recently?" John muttered as they walked away from the river to get a coffee from the crappy police vans.

"Something changed, John. I don't know what. I just think I need something else. This can't be good for me. And the more free time I have away from University, the more I can see that." She explained. "When I lived with you for short bursts at a time, it was fine. But I just don't think I can cope anymore." She said as she sipped the poor quality of coffee.

"Oh, Claudia. Think of how happy you were on your wedding day." John said. Claudia smiled happily.

"I know. But will I be happy in five years time? Will he? I don't think either of us will. It's better to cut the ties before they get even more knotted."

#####

"So, how are you finding married life?" Molly asked as Claudia went to look around the hospital after hours. She'd found an actually decent coffee machine, and Molly had been there too.

The two girls were sat in the empty canteen, avidly talking. It hadn't been like this a couple of months before. Molly would have avoided her like the plague.

Sherlock was running DNA tests in the lab, having seen the body and deduced all he could without actually telling anyone else anything, obviously.

"It's fine. It's no different really." Claudia explained. Molly nodded.

"Married life with Sherlock must be hard." Molly said, absently running a hand through her wavy hair.

"It is, yeah." Claudia laughed dryly. "He still hasn't grasped what 'romantic' means." She told her.

"I envied you. For a long time." Molly admitted. "And then as soon as he started treating me normally and stopped using me to get into the morgue, I suppose I moved on. He hasn't complimented me in a couple of months." Molly grinned. Claudia smiled. "It's because of you, you know."

"I know. He's a sweet heart when he wants to be. It's just that that isn't very often." She shrugged.

"I'm supposed to tell you that Sherlock has found something interesting and he wants your opinion, Molly. But I went on a detour to piss him off, and that was twenty minutes ago." John stuck his head into the small canteen and smiled.

Molly giggled and took hers and Claudia's empty coffee cups and threw them in the bin.

"You coming?" She asked. Claudia nodded.

"I'd probably get lost if you left me to it." She joked, and Molly grinned at her.

#####

"I've taken some of the husbands DNA I found on the key to his work basement that I stole. I've taken samples from the woman and ran them against his. There are no traces from him on her! I can't see anything suspicious. But I know he did it!" Sherlock growled. "There is foreign DNA on the body in a more suspicious place. The wrists, ankles and neck. It looks to me like a similar DNA coding, could be a child or a sibling. What do you think?" Sherlock asked Molly.

Poor Molly Hooper blinked. Had Sherlock actually asked for her opinion on something? Claudia bit her tongue. There she'd gone again. Changing him.

"Um, sure." Molly said, quickly rushing to the microscope and scanner, hooking it up to the monitor and looking at the DNA helix. "I'll run it with both of their DNA, see if we get a match." She breathed, quickly typing something. The DNA changed slightly. "Their child." Molly explained.

"Thought so." Sherlock said, running a hand through his hair.

"Give us some contextual knowledge." John suggested.

"They divorced seven years ago today. She ended it. She went missing two days ago, was reported missing yesterday. She has a son and a daughter, and is happily married with a new husband. He has stayed single, has had no more kids. He didn't turn up to work yesterday, or the two days previously despite not calling in sick.

"It all adds up to him. Disgruntled on the anniversary of their divorce, angry with her for leaving him, he acted impulsively and kidnapped her, taking her to his place of work and hiding her. He was the only one with the key to the basement, therefore he hid her there. He didn't turn up to work in case anyone asked him for the key and thus walked in on this kidnapped woman. If they had no key, they couldn't get in.

"If that man hadn't have hit me, I could have saved her. Ah, I see." Sherlock suddenly said, closing his eyes and placing his hands in a prayer position in front of his face.

"He was told about the near break in on the basement and panicked. Took her from the basement and dumped her near lifeless body in the Thames. But why aren't his fingerprints on her body? Why is their sons?" He asked.

"How do you know it's the son?" Claudia asked.

"The size of the fingerprints." Sherlock replied quickly.

"Couldn't the dad have worn gloves?" Claudia then suggested. Sherlock looked at her like she'd just offered him twenty million pounds.

"Brilliant! Gloves or some item of clothing that his son would have touched. The only explanation." He exclaimed, jumping from his seat and pacing in a circle a few times. Claudia couldn't hide her beam of pride. "Frame the son. I need CCTV evidence and then we can get the police involved." Sherlock continued.

"I'll call Mycroft." John muttered, getting his phone and leaving the lab.

"How did you know about the basement thing?" Molly asked.

"I observed and deduced." Sherlock explained, not looking at her when he spoke. Molly nodded, apparently finding his poor explanation satisfactory.

Or maybe she felt awkward witnessing Sherlock's ''bedroom eyes'' to Claudia, who was painfully oblivious to the fact that he was staring at her.

John walked in moments later, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen on the small group of friends.

"He's looking into it. If he sees anything he'll send you the footage." John explained. Sherlock smiled tightly and leaned back in chair. There was nothing to do except wait. He stood up and looked at the three of them before him.

"Who wants to go for a walk? Claudia? Yes?" Sherlock asked, already walking from the lab and expecting her to follow.

Claudia sighed but followed.

Before she could even ask him what he wanted, he'd practically pinned her to the wall and was kissing her, rather desperately, as if he knew what was happening with them.

It had started a month before when he told her he wouldn't be going to the local bonfire with her for bonfire night. That hadn't even happened yet, bonfire night wasn't for another week. But she'd still been upset with him. He'd also said no to doing anything for Halloween, which was two days away. She'd gotten progressively upset when he began refusing to go out with her, being too involved with a case to spend time with her. He'd said no to going for lunch one day, despite her having had a crappy day. Then there was his reaction with her when he thought she was pregnant. That had been the worst of them all.

He was desperate for her stay, but if she wouldn't, then he'd just make the most of their time left together.

He felt better when she knotted her hands in his hair as she usually did, and strained herself more than usual to meet his lips. His hands left her face and travelled southwards, until he found he had picked her up and her legs had wrapped around his waist. He was then carrying her somewhere, anywhere, where they could be private.

His phone interrupted them, buzzing in his pocket. He was happy to ignore it, but Claudia had already leaned back in his grasp and was watching him.

"I have to." He winced, gently letting her step down. He pulled his phone out. "Mycroft." He said answering it.

He walked back into the lab with a backwards glance at Claudia.

She stayed in the hall, leaning against the white wall and trying to stifle the sobs that were threatening to spill from her mouth. He knew. He knew what she'd been thinking. She put a hand over her mouth and tried to calm herself down. She managed to after a couple of minutes, and she pulled herself together, drying her cheeks and eyes and walking back into the lab.

Sherlock was watching grainy CCTV footage over and over, with Molly and John peering over his back.

"That's definitely him. That bag is human size." Sherlock noted as they watched him sling a bag into his van and get in. "Look, Claude. He drives it to the Thames, and then the footage cuts off." He showed her. She nodded.

"John, Molly- I need you to make sure she was definitely dead before she was dumped in the Thames." Sherlock ordered.

They left the lab and went to the lifts to take them to the morgue.

"What are you going to do?" Sherlock then turned to her and asked. She paused.

"I don't know. What should I do? Do you need me?" Claudia asked, not sure whether they were talking about their relationship or whether they were talking about the case. He didn't reply. Maybe he didn't know what they were talking about either.

"I'm gonna go home. I'm getting up early to get a kitten." Claudia explained nonchalantly.

"No. Absolutely not." Sherlock called as she began to leave.

"Too bad, Sherly. I'm getting her. My little Buddy Holly." She cooed, slipping her jacket on.

"Buddy Holly?" He asked.

"What I'm calling her." Claudia replied.

"That's a male name." Sherlock reminded her. She shrugged and zipped her coat up.

"It doesn't matter. I'll see you at home, yeah?" She asked. He nodded.

"Claude!" Sherlock called as she began to leave. She turned back. "Be careful." He said very quietly. She smiled and nodded, leaving once more.

#####

**It's going to get worse, my friends. A wee bit of fluff and a lot of angst for you. **

**The next chapter will involve wrapping up this short case, getting Buddy Holly the cat and bonfire night.**

**(I'm aware that if you don't like in the UK, you might not know what Bonfire Night is. On the 5th November, you basically go to a bonfire or have one yourself and you burn like a straw effigy of this guy called Guy Fawkes, who tried to blow up parliament in the early 1600's. I believe he was then captured, tortured and decapitated. A lovely bit of British history for you. And we celebrate that. Wow. But Bonfire Night is quite nice anyway. There's fireworks.)**

**I'll try and update tomorrow my lovelies. Have a nice day/night.**

**-Fay xox**


	23. Buddy Holly

_For now I need your hidden love. - Leonard Cohen._

John was lumbered with carrying a cage, a box of cat toys, a large bag of cat food and various other implements while Claudia had the joy of carrying Buddy Holly home. She was adorable, tiny and shiny black, with the brightest green eyes.

Even John got a bit feminine when he first saw her, making odd little 'aw' noises.

Claudia bundled the tiny thing into one hand to unlock the front door, and awkwardly let John in. He bashed into the walls with all of his equipment as he ran upstairs. Claudia slowly followed, not wanting to drop Holly.

"Oh... Hello." Claudia heard John say as he reached their flat. She frowned and went a bit quicker to see who was there. She really hoped it was someone like Mycroft, or Lestrade. Anyone but Irene Adler and she'd be fine.

She peeked through the door to find a middle aged man handcuffed to the coffee table and slumped on the floor. He actually cracked a smile when he saw Buddy Holly.

"Who are you?" Claudia asked, confused. The man didn't reply, he just motioned to the Sherlock's bedroom. John dumped all the cat things on the table and stormed into the bedroom, to see what he'd been up to.

"Care to tell us who the man chained to the coffee table is?" He asked.

"The murderer." Sherlock replied, and Claudia looked openly disgusted at him, turning around so he could no longer have the pleasure of looking at Buddy.

"Oh, I'm not going to kill your cat." The man sighed, looking pained. Claudia ignored him and joined the men in the bedroom. Sherlock was on the phone, apparently on hold, tapping his foot and getting annoyed.

"Who's that?" She asked, pointing to the phone.

"Who's that?" Sherlock demanded in turn, pointing at Buddy and looked generally disgusted and disappointed.

"Buddy Holly." Claudia grinned, waving Buddy's little paw at him.

"Am I supposed to know that name?" He frowned. Claudia tried not to let that get to her.

"Buddy's gonna be living with us now, aren't you my little darling?" She cooed to the fur-ball in her arms, and Sherlock looked repelled by the little thing.

"Ah, finally you decide to pull yourself away from the coffee machine and talk to me. I've been waiting for three and a half minutes, _Greg, _and this is of the utmost importance." Sherlock lectured on the phone.

Claudia grimaced to John who went in to the living room to confront the man.

"How did he get you?" John asked.

"Rang my phone and told me he needed some work done on his sink. That's my trade- plumber. I turn up, he bundled me in here and handcuffed me to this damn coffee table." The man snarled, glaring up at him. Claudia peeked her head in and saw John glaring right back.

"Stop talking. Lestrade is on his way." Sherlock paced into the living room and put his hands on his hips, surveying the scene before him.

A man tied to the coffee table – good.

John watching over said man at coffee table – good.

Claudia holding a kitten – not good.

"So, when exactly are you getting rid of that thing?" Sherlock asked, glaring at Buddy Holly. He missed John obviously shaking his head. Dangerous territory.

"I'm not." Claudia said, finally letting Buddy go and watching her jump on the couch and lie down on a cushion, causing Sherlock to grunt.

The sound of urgent footsteps rushing up the stairs sent them all out of their reverie, and Lestrade was at the ready.

"James Powell, I'm arresting you on the suspicion of the abduction and murder of Karen Durbeyfield. You don't have to say anything but anything you do say will be mentioned in court." Lestrade said quickly, unlocking him from the coffee table and putting him in proper handcuffs. "Well done, Sherlock. We'll need you to come to the station too."

"I'm aware of how it works." Sherlock replied, already with his coat and scarf on. "I'll follow behind. Claudia, when I get back I expect to find that _thing_ gone." He told her, pointing and then leaving. Greg practically pushed John Powell down the stairs, followed by the two back-up officers that had gone with him.

"Well, that's that then." John said, brushing his hands together when he heard their cars drive away. "What are we doing about Buddy Holly?" He asked, glancing at the sleeping kitten.

"I'm not getting rid of her. She's family now." Claudia insisted, taking one of the two dishes they'd bought for her. She filled one with water and placed it in the living room. She then put the small cat bed on the floor too, as well as some of the toys they'd bought.

"I agree." John sighed, knowing an argument was likely to ensue.

#####

"I have to go to court." Sherlock said dramatically as he entered the flat, slamming the door shut and watching as Buddy Holly panicked and darted across the room and hid under the couch. "What is that cat doing here still?" He shouted, glaring at all the new features the flat had.

"I'm keeping it." Claudia pouted from the chair where the kitten had just dashed from her lap. She'd been reading with music playing quietly in the background.

"Where's John? John!" Sherlock shouted, obviously thinking John would stick up for him.

"He's gone to the shop." Claudia said as she turned back to her book. "He agrees with me, by the way."

He ignored her and collapsed on the couch, closing his eyes and leaning his chin on his prayer clasping hands. Claudia watched, amused, as Buddy jumped onto his lap and made it her home.

Sherlock jumped slightly. "What's it doing?" He asked, looking up at Claudia.

"It's sleeping. Come on, Buddy Holly. Now Sherlock, remember. She can't go out yet. She's not street enough. She's still a little baby, aren't you Buddy Holly?" Claudia cooed as she picked her up.

"Must you insist on calling her by two names?" Sherlock sighed.

"Yes. So, please. Do not let her out yet! She could get really hurt. She doesn't even know what cars are." She explained.

"Fine. Just keep it away from me." Sherlock ordered.

"I can't control what Buddy Holly does 24/7. You'll just have to get used to her." Claudia insisted, sitting back down and stroking Buddy. The cat pawed at her mouth lazily, causing Claudia to almost die of cuteness.

"Also, always make sure she's got water. You know, if me and John are out or whatever." She asked. Sherlock nodded absently, not really taking anything in but vaguely listening.

"So, tell me. What's so bad about going to court?" She asked.

"I have to explain my involvement in the case despite not being told about it." He grumbled. "I was the one who caught him, so I have to give my statement in front of the judge." He explained.

"You did it very cleverly. You'd have thought he'd have realised that it was a trap." Claudia mused.

"He'd been staying away from work for a week so he wasn't getting any income. He needed money, but he needed it without having to go to work and let his workers into the basement where the woman was. Therefore, he needed something easy. I told him the sink was leaking." Sherlock explained quickly. Claudia was smiling gently at him. Sherlock lazily raised his eyes to meet hers, and he gave a very quick smile himself.

"It's bonfire night tomorrow." Claudia brought up, raising her eyebrows at him suggestively. He glanced at her again.

"I told you, I'm not wasting time with such trivialities as to celebrating something unimportant that happened four hundred years ago." Sherlock snapped. Claudia's hopeful smile fell.

"I'll just go with John, then. And Carla. And Buddy Holly." She said, leaning back, obviously disappointed. She always thought fireworks to be romantic.

"A kitten would be traumatised by fireworks." Sherlock reminded her.

"You'll have to look after her, then." Claudia told him, rather loudly. She'd lost her temper, something she was doing a lot more recently.

"I'll come with you." Sherlock was resigned to his fate. She'd never stop going on about Bonfire Night and how he'd let her down if he did _actually_ let her down.

#####

**5th November**

Sherlock stood rigidly in the night illuminated only by the lights of nearby food stalls, but mainly by the large bonfire in the centre of the freezing cold park they were stood in. Claudia was stood next to him, beaming away, bundled up in jumpers and coats and scarves. John was nearby with Carla... Somewhere. Buddy Holly was being looked after by Mrs Hudson, who was delighted by her new tenant.

So Sherlock was left feeling bored, cold and annoyed by the crowds of hundreds of people gathered for this ridiculous tradition of pretending to be amazed by a small fire in a park and a few lousy fireworks. The 'oohs' and 'aahs' of nearby watchers didn't convince him that is was better than it was, but Claudia seemed to be your enjoying it. Despite the fact that her nose had turned red with the cold and her fingers were beginning to tingle, of course she was enjoying it. Sherlock, however, was not. His hands were cold too, stuffed in his coat pockets.

Luckily, Claudia seemed to notice that fact and grabbed a hand, clutching it with both hands and effectively warming it up. He had to admit, he rather enjoyed it.

"This is quite boring, isn't it?" Claudia finally admitted as they waited for another ten minutes with nothing happening but the flames.

"Finally. You admit it." Sherlock grumbled, tightening his scarf around his neck with his free hand. They were so far back in the crowd that they couldn't even feel the heat emanating from the fire.

"Do you want to go home?" Claudia muttered,

"Do you really have to ask?" Sherlock asked, and began to gently pull her away.

Twenty minutes later and they had walked home, Claudia chatting away at Sherlock while he occasionally muttered vague responses.

"And my graduation is in two months, and that's how long I have to wait for my results. I'm just lucky to be finishing Uni early, because I did all my coursework on time. If I hadn't, I'd still have all my exams to sit. There's only about fifty of us graduating earlier, just after Christmas. So I'll have to quickly get a job, I can work full-time until I get my results and then I can apply for jobs I actually want. There's actually supposed to be a Nazi Germany exhibition for two years at the London Museum, and they're looking for tour guides to work when it's been set up. I've been emailed about it. I can apply in two months, and then hopefully I'll get that and I'll be on the ladder to being a full blown History tutor." She rambled, gesticulating with her free hand as she talked. "My professor is excited about my book ideas, he'd be interested in writing the forward he told me. And reference me to publishers and things. I'll start writing it in my spare time, and he's going to proof read it and get my page references for me. Everything looks like it's coming together, Sherly." She grinned up at him, and he rather patiently smiled down at her. It was strained.

He unlocked the front door and was pushed aside as Claudia went to Mrs Hudson's apartment to get her cat. Sherlock rolled his eyes and made his way to their own apartment. He heard a deep rumble of voices, and then quick footsteps and the door slamming shut. Claudia moved Buddy Holly's cat bed so it was in front of the couch and gently put Buddy there, and sat down next to Sherlock.

He put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, and they sat their watching their kitten sleep together.

"We'll be fine." Sherlock muttered, his fingers tightening on her arm, trying to reassure them both that he was telling the truth. Deep down they both knew something was wrong with them both.

"Of course we will." Claudia said, but she didn't sound as convincing as Sherlock did.

But then again, maybe her life wasn't so bad after all. He'd gone to the bonfire with her, hadn't he? He was rather accepting of Buddy Holly despite obviously not liking cats. But was it enough? She just simply didn't know. It was okay for the minute, but what would it be like in a month? A week? A day? It could change in a minute with Sherlock.

Meanwhile, at a small bonfire in a local London park, Carla had said yes.

#####

**A bit of a boring one, I'm very aware of that. But trust me, you'll be begging for boring when you read what I have planned in the next couple of chapters, hahahahahha. :(**

**HAVE YOU SEEN THE SERIES 3 TEASER TRAILER?;';O;SEDJILFDNJGLKASN\LDFGMDS**

**IF YOU HAVEN'T, GO ON YOUTUBE. NOW. WHY ARE YOU STILL READING THIS?!**

**25 seconds of pure magic. And the 12th Doctor is being announced on Sunday... I don't think I can cope with all of this Moffat stress. I think I might be morphing into him, what with my totally evil story line coming up. You're all so going to hate me. But it's going to be soooo worth it.**

**Anyway, going back to my plot... I'm aware that Carla isn't really a developed character yet, but she will become quite a large character in future chapters. **

**Keep your wonderful reviews coming, my lovelies. May not be able to update tomorrow because I'll be working, and then I have to get loads of stuff together for this course I'm going on. And then I won't be able to update until at least Thursday, unfortunately. I'm sure you guys will cope, you're all cool like that.**

**-Fay xox**


	24. The End

**I heard an unhappy ending. It sort of sounds like you're leaving -Arctic Monkeys, Piledriver Waltz**

"I cannot believe you! You thought it would be okay to dissolve the first thirty pages of my novel?!" Claudia shrieked the following day, coming home to find her perfect beginning with holes in it.

"It's science, Claudia." Sherlock said lazily, leaning forwards in his chair and resisting the temptation of the cigarette pack he'd bought three hours before and kept in his coat pocket ever since. He was bored. "I wanted to see how much acid it takes to dissolve that much nonsense."

Claudia looked hurt. "It's not nonsense. It's my novel." She said, her voice very small.

Sherlock ignored her, far too absorbed in his internal struggle to keep away from the cigarettes. He had a sudden desire to get out of the flat, away from Claudia's nagging, and smoke to his hearts desire.

"And you can be so unbelievably boring." Sherlock retorted, doing as he wanted and slipping his coat on.

Claudia tried not to look hurt. "Where are you going?" She asked, sounding all too much like a nagging mother.

"It's nothing to do with you." Sherlock claimed, abruptly leaving 221B. Claudia didn't register the fact that he hadn't shut the front door behind him with the upcoming disaster.

"What was that about, Buddy?" Claudia whispered, trying very hard not to think too much into his reaction.

She turned to glance at the room he'd just left, looking to find anything that could point to why he was in a bad mood. There was nothing.

However, the room was cluttered with 'congratulations' banners and balloons, and there was still heavy evidence of the party that had taken place the night before.

A house full of people, alcohol and loud music wasn't Sherlock's dream of a good night, and Claudia concluded that that was the reason he was so off with her.

The party had been exactly what she'd hoped for when she'd planned it in one day. What with John suddenly springing his proposal on Carla without so much as a hint to Claudia about his plans, she hadn't had long to make their party a success.

Claudia tried to ignore the lingering thought in her mind that he might be bored with her or something to that extent, and focussed on what she actually needed to do. Job applications.

She stuck some music on, tied her hair back and cracked her knuckles, intending to get it right first time and send them off straight away.

On one or two of them asked her to write her relationship status. She thought for a few seconds before typing- 'It's complicated.'

#####

John returned home from work to find Claudia in tears on the couch, music playing softly in the background and her laptop laying miserably on the floor, as if she'd had to push it from her lap in a rush.

"Claude. What's happened?" John demanded, immediately rushing to her side and standing in a defensive mode.

"Buddy Holly's gone." Claudia said, her voice thick with emotion. "Some inconsiderate arse hole left the front door open when he stormed out." She hissed. "He's not old enough to be out on his own, he could get run over!" She exclaimed.

"Claude, it's okay. We'll find him." John assured her, but he was worried. Could this spell the end for something more than Baker Street occupying a cat. Could this be the point when Claudia finally cracked?

"I've tried, John. I've tried to live like this, being unappreciated and ignored, and living without being shown affection unless it suits him. I can't do it anymore. He's inconsiderate, ignorant and selfish, and I can't do it." Claudia said, storming into her bedroom and pulling out a bag from the under the bed. She began routing through drawers and the wardrobe, pulling clothes, books and items and recklessly stuffing them into the bag.

"Claude, please think about this. Don't be irrational." John pleaded, following her and grabbing her arm.

"You wouldn't be able to do it." Claudia simply said, looking him in the eyes. John knew she was right, and let her wrist go.

He walked into the living room to find Sherlock stood there, a surprised look on his face. He'd heard everything.

"Sherlock..." John began, but the detective had already abandoned the room, leaving John to deal with the emotional wreck in the bedroom.

"I can save this, John!" He vaguely heard Sherlock shout before the door slammed shut downstairs.

John prayed that Claudia would stay a little while longer, so that Sherlock could indeed save it.

He heard the bathroom door open and shut- she was packing her toiletries.

"Claudia!" John called, "Please wait. Talk to him!" He pleaded.

"Oh come on. He doesn't care. He'll just have to get Mrs Hudson to do everything for him again, instead of me." She snapped, walking out the bathroom and leaning her bag on the kitchen table, struggling with the stuck zip. It finally budged and she slung her bag over her shoulder. She stuffed her credit card in her jeans pocket and grabbed her phone from the side.

The final thing she did in 221B Baker Street was hand her key over to John, who begrudgingly took it and watched her leave hesitantly.

#####

She didn't have a clue where she was going to go. If she went to Carla's, she'd probably convince her to go back. If she went home, her mother would be fussing over her like a child. The only thing she could think of was a hotel, until she worked out a suitable plan.

Armed with Mycroft's money (that she now had no qualms of spending), she booked herself into a nice four star affair, not too expensive but not awful. She had a nice double bedroom, with a nice view of London and a modern set up. She could see herself living there quite comfortably for a few days. She just prayed that the hotel reception would do as she asked and refuse any tall man with dark curly hair access to her room. If she actually had to sit and discuss things with him, her resolve would go and she'd move back into Baker Street. She didn't want that. She couldn't continue living with a man who only put his interests first.

Leaving the door open wasn't that big of a deal, neither was letting Buddy Holly out. Claudia knew deep down that cats were clever enough to make their own way home, the cat was probably old enough to go out by himself anyway. But it was the principle behind it- he hadn't had the thought to shut the door and keep the cat that meant a lot to her in. She knew it sounded pathetic, but it had been her turning point. It was an amalgamation of similar events that had added up and made her start to slowly lose her mind, with letting Buddy out being the tip of the ice-burg.

Sherlock Holmes was better off on his own, and they both knew that.

It was only when she was behind the safety of a locked door and closed curtains that she allowed herself to start crying. She'd been close when booking the room to bursting into tears, and bawling her way through talking to the receptionist. But miraculously, she'd managed to hold it all in.

But now she could let it all out. She had left her husband, whom she loved very much. But somehow, she'd managed to convince herself that all the times he'd said he'd loved her too had been a lie. He hadn't meant it. Because if he'd have meant it, he'd have chased her to her hotel, and would be banging on her door just to talk to her. What had he done? He'd simply walked out, she'd heard him. She'd heard John's pathetic 'Sherlock...' and the door shutting seconds after. He'd walked out on her, and she'd walked out on him.

He'd probably gone to Scotland Yard, to see if he could distract himself with crime. He'd lost his number one distraction, Claudia, and now he was free to do as he pleased once more.

She had to admit, his life looked a lot better without her in it.

But what she didn't even come close to thinking was what was truly happening back at Baker Street.

Because sometimes, love isn't being chased down the street and banging on the door to be let in, it's the small and quiet acts of devotion that hold the sentiment. Sherlock wasn't a grandiose man, he was the type of man that did the small and quiet acts of devotion. Claudia just hadn't quite realised that.

#####

Sherlock had spent his entire life being rejected by people he was fond of. Friends at school, college and university all made fun of him, judged him and expected too much of him. He was a highly functioning sociopath, and people seemed to think he'd made that up to have an excuse for being an arse. That most definitely wasn't the case.

His sociopathic tendencies had let him down this time. He'd lost her, but he knew he could get her back if he played it smartly.

His first port of call was finding Buddy Holly and taking the stupid thing home, graciously of course, and very apologetically.

He then had to sweet talk her into staying with him, despite the various flaws of his that she'd so kindly listed in front of him without knowing.

And finally, he had to try to change.

It took him three hours to find Buddy Holly. It had been raining too, and in his haste he'd forgotten to wear his coat or his scarf. He'd searched all through London, and he had to admit, it was actually harder to track down a cat than it was a human.

He finally found the cowering thing under a car about four miles away from Baker Street. He'd picked the detestable thing up and got a cab back to 221B, where he hoped John had convinced Claude to stay for a bit longer.

He rushed up the stairs to his flat, a large grin on his face, his marriage now reliant on Watson's persuasion skills. He fully trusted his best man had done the job. He was stupidly optimistic.

He practically kicked the door in and stood in the threshold. "Claudia, I found your cat!"

John had to admit, his heart went out to the man. He'd been gone for hours, he'd obviously been looking for the cat for all that time. He was soaking wet, his hair stuck to his face, dripping into his eyes. His shirt was stuck to his chest, he was shivering slightly as he stood. He was paler than usual, the effects of the cold unwillingly getting to his body.

"I'll put the shower on for you, mate. And make you a coffee. Then you can put some dry clothes on before you get hypothermia." John said quietly, taking the shivering kitten from Sherlock's arms and putting it in its bed, quickly drying it with a towel and putting the fire on for it.

He then put the shower on high, put the kettle on and gently pushed Sherlock into the right direction.

"She's gone." Sherlock stated.

"Yeah. She's gone." John nodded apologetically.

"But we're married. She can't just leave." Sherlock said, seeming undeniably human- Lost, afraid and seeking solace.

John didn't quite know what to say to that.

"Have a shower, and we'll have a talk. Okay?" John asked, and Sherlock nodded numbly.

##

**I'm sorry for multiple things**

**1. For not updating in a very long time**

**2. For this chapter**

**I'm not 100% happy with it, I had it planned differently in my head but it is what it is. I know some of you think this splitting up is quite sudden, but I don't think it is. (But that's my opinion, haha) obviously, leave me criticism and that, it apparently helps.**

**I got my GCSE results! 4 A*'s, 4 A's and 2 B's. I'm thoroughly proud of myself.**

**But it's all starting again now because I started college three weeks ago! It seems a heavy workload, so I may not be updating as frequently as I did when I was at school, but I know you understand.**

**College is pretty cool anyway, if daunting.**

**By the way, the title was meant to scare you. THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE LANGUOROUS YEAR!**

**Anyway, let me know what you think. Pleaaaaaaaaaaaase.**

**I love you all 3**


	25. Moving On (Apparently)

_**I guess I never told you I'm so happy that you're mine... You were always on my mind. -Elvis Presley, Always on My Mind**_

It had ended messily and with a lot of heart-ache for Claudia. The worst was that it wasn't simply a relationship, they were married. Divorce was going to be lengthy, and cause even more pain. Of course, she could go to Mycroft, but he'd probably make it illegal for her to divorce or something equally bizarre, just so she stayed with his brother. It was best to keep away from the Holmes', she decided.

Going to collect her things was a pain too, her record player and clothes, her books and films and of course, Buddy Holly. It was like a stab to her heart when John rang her and told her what Sherlock had done, going out for hours to find her bloody cat. But it didn't change her resolve.

She'd knocked on the front door, and waited anxiously with a large and empty suitcase in one hand and various bags slung on her back to carry everything to her hotel.

It was Mrs Hudson who opened the door, looking apprehensive and nervous. "Oh, Claudia. Thank God you're back. I wouldn't go up there, he's got his gun out." The old woman told her.

"I'm back for my things, Mrs Hudson." Claudia admitted. It was like a spark went from the woman's eyes.

"Ah. I'll get John." She said, leaving Claudia stood on the doorstep. "John!"

John soon came running down the stairs, a gun in his hand and a packet of cigarettes in the other. "Claudia, please come and talk some sense into your damn husband." John pushed her into the house and up the stairs.

"John, I've only come to collect my things." Claudia said, turning around and staring at him. John faltered in his step.

"But he got the cat back for you. Everything's sorted." John refuted, not believing it.

"You know we've got problems much worse than that. Let me in." Claudia said, gesturing to the front door handle that John had his hand over. He sighed and opened the door, letting her see the mess that was 221B Baker Street.

And it was a mess. The table was upturned, there were numerous smoking bullet holes in the walls, and floor, and ceiling come to that matter. She glanced at said bullet holes on the floor and noticed the letter 'C'.

"Oh God." She said, feeling wretched.

The man himself was led on the couch, his back to her, his legs tucked up to his chest.

She quickly darted into the bedroom and packed the remaining things she'd left behind. She carefully placed the record player into a box and packed it up with her records. She stuffed her clothes into the suitcase, as well as shoes and coats. After ten minutes, everything she owned was in her bags, and she could properly leave. Buddy Holly was perched on top of her suitcase as she said goodbye to John.

"I'll meet up with you tomorrow or something." She said, and John nodded, sadly glancing at the sulking detective. "I love you." She told her brother, hugging him. She then picked all of her bags up and left for the final time, without so much as uttering one word in Sherlock's direction.

As soon as they heard the front door crash shut downstairs, Sherlock leapt from his couch and went to the window, watching as she struggled with her bags into a cab. When it drove away he allowed himself to turn around.

"She's gone then. Back to normal. Just how we like it. Me and you, against the rest of the world." Sherlock said, and John grimaced. Judging by Sherlock's reaction to when Claudia left the first time, involving the bullet holed C and the temper tantrum in the living room, living without Claudia was not 'just how he liked it.' He obviously liked it when she was there. But the stupid idiot had let her go.

_**Two Months Later**_

It was in all the newspapers. Sherlock Holmes had quit his job. He had given it all up for good.

It had been on the news, in magazines, all over the internet. Paparazzi had been following not only Sherlock, but John around for days. They'd been waiting outside of 221B, just waiting for a glimpse of the famous man who'd sorted hundreds of peoples problems out (if they were interesting enough.)

They'd asked for an official statement, and that was where he'd say something incredibly rude and offensive and walk away.

"What's happened with him?" Claudia asked as they met for coffee one day. John looked warily at his sister, knowing if he told her the truth she'd feel incredibly guilty.

"He's just not interested anymore." He lied. Claudia nodded, trying to pretend she wasn't interested.

"So how's he doing anyway? Bet he never talks about me." She laughed nervously, her eyes darting to John's and darting away again quickly.

"He doesn't really talk to me that much. Only to complain about how bored he is." John laughed, not meeting her eye contact.

"Nothing changes there then." She laughed, somewhat sadly. "Wedding preparations?" She then asked him, and he looked especially happier to be talking about something he actually wanted to talk about.

"We've picked a date." He said proudly, stirring his tea. "Four months and three weeks." He smiled.

"That's soon?" Claudia asked, smirking.

"Not as soon as yours. You got engaged in the morning and married the next day." John reminded her. Her smile fell slightly but she still saw the humour in it.

"Yeah, well you're having a proper wedding, that actually means something." Claudia pointed out, still with a small smile. John shrugged, not agreeing or disagreeing. "Tell me, really. How's he doing?" Claudia asked, her smile completely gone as she dropped the pretences.

"He's better." John admitted. She'd seen the bullet holes, the mess in the living room. She knew what he must have been like. But she'd still gone.

#####

The news had hit everyone in the same way. Sherlock Holmes was no longer a detective. For Lestrade is was his worst nightmare, for Mycroft is was a travesty and for Jim Moriarty it was disappointing. Well, it was more than disappointing, it was so perfectly ordinary and predictable that it made him want to point and laugh in the face of Sherlock Holmes.

He'd been patiently waiting for something like this to happen, he knew Claudia Watson was bad news for intelligent men. She was too _nice_, she made them want to change too much. It had happened to him too, but not as badly as Sherlock.

The problem with Claudia was that she was a summer girl, who wore dresses and was undeniably just _cute, _naïve and had a love for old music. But it was more than that, because she was also painfully sarcastic, witty and scholastic. Now there aren't many girls like that, not ones worth your time anyway. And that is what Sherlock and Moriarty both knew, and that is why they were both unusually attracted to her.

And she'd ruined him.

In the end, he always thought it would either be Sherlock or himself that would end him, but it wasn't. It was a girl. The very thought made Moriarty want to shoot himself in the head and end his own life, because a life without opponents, enemies and the thrill of the chase wasn't a life worth living.

What did he plan on doing? For once in his life, he did not have a clue. He'd seen it coming, but not so soon. He hadn't had much time to plan, but he knew he'd figure something out. He'd sleep on it, for that's the cliché isn't it? Apparently, by going to sleep and being unconscious, it could help to make one's mind up.

God people were so thick.

#####

"Hey there, Maid of Honour." Carla greeted her best friend in the same way she'd been greeting her since asking if she'd take on the job.

"Hey there, Future Bride." Claudia replied, hugging her. The fact that Carla had probably seen more of Sherlock than she had in the past two months made her hairs stand up on the back of her neck and she felt the blood warming feeling of jealousy. Carla knew more about Sherlock's life than she did, and she didn't like that at all. But what could she do?

"Wedding dress shopping." Carla stated, looking nervous as they linked arms and walked into the expensive looking gown shop, full of faux-smiles and weighty price tags.

"It's so exciting, Carla." Claudia said, smiling like a fool. They began searching through the racks, talking aimlessly as they did so.

"You do know Sherlock is John's best man, don't you?" Carla then asked, hesitating before saying it, knowing it would be a sore point. Claudia stopped looking through the dresses and paused for a moment.

"No, he didn't tell me." She finally managed to say, although she was stupid for not thinking about it before. Just because she wasn't talking to Sherlock didn't mean John wasn't either. They were still best friends. Claudia had seemed to forgotten that when bitching about him numerous times to John. Whoops.

"I didn't think he had. I specifically asked him to tell you." Carla hissed, shaking her head and tutting at her soon-to-be husband.

"Oh, it doesn't matter. It doesn't mean I have to talk to him. And if I do, I will be perfectly pleasant." Claudia promised herself, but she knew she'd be avoiding him like the plague at the wedding.

"Good, because we're all going for a meal next week." Carla said quickly, walking away with a dress draped over her arm before Claudia could retort.

"What?" She demanded, following her to the changing room.

"Champagne?" A young girl asked, two flutes of champagne on a silver tray. Claudia took hers and drank it in one, and then had Carla's too.

"Well, you're always in a bad mood because you miss him but you won't admit it and he's given his job up because he can't focus properly. I just don't understand why you don't get back together." Carla said, hanging the dress up before going to look for a few more to try on.

"I am not always in a bad mood!" Claudia roared, glaring at her best friend, who simply gave her a look that said- 'Oh yeah?'

"Everyone gets bad moods." Claudia muttered. "And actually, I've moved on. I met that very nice man, remember?" She asked. Carla shrugged. "No, really. Do you remember his name? 'Cause I don't." Claudia grimaced, feeling slightly ashamed of that fact.

Carla tried to stop the laughter but she couldn't.

"Oh God. His name was George. I'm pretty sure you put his number in your phone. And you know what? If you're really over Sherlock, bring Sir George to the meal. I bet you can't go through with it." Carla grinned knowingly, knowing that Claudia would never do that.

What she didn't think of was the fact that Claudia was very stubborn, and would take George along just to spite Carla.

"Fine, I will. And then you will see just how much I am over Sherlock Holmes." Claudia grinned unconvincingly, thrusting a number of wedding dresses into Carla's arms and pulling the curtain shut so she could try them on.

#####

George was very happy when he heard back from Claudia, finally. It had been almost a month since she agreed to meet up with him, and she hadn't yet. So this sudden message from her asking him for a meal was a shock, but he was entirely glad that she _had _asked.

He wasn't very glad when she then admitted that it would be with a group of her friends. That was daunting. So he, in turn, asked if they could go out before then, just so George could get to know her better before meeting her friends (and brother, an ex-husband.)

Claudia had agreed, but purely because she knew it would guarantee that he would turn up the following week for the meal, and that was all she was bothered about. And yes, she was aware that she was using him, but who knew? Maybe she would genuinely end up liking him. He'd be much more healthier for her than Sherlock ever was, and he could be supportive and loving and generally pleasant to be around.

But would that be enough for her?

#####

**I wasn't planning that at all in my head, but it's ended up better than it was originally going to be. Prepare yourself for the next chapter, which will involve Sherlock being thoroughly himself around George, Claudia relentlessly trying to make Sherlock jealous, and Moriarty coming up with the most marvellous plan.**

**Hope you enjoyed, please leave me some comments.**

**Love you all 3**


	26. Undeniable Electricity

_**Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again? Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight? -Elvis Presley, Are You Lonesome Tonight?**_

The kiss on the cheek, the opening of her car door, the carrying of her jacket- All things that Claudia wasn't used to. She was out with George, on their official 'first date.' He was taking her to a swanky restaurant. The first mistake he made- He'd chosen the very same Italian restaurant that she and Sherlock had frequented whenever he had some making up to do with her, which occurred quite a lot.

"Ah, Mrs Holmes. And John Watson, I assume? The famous brother I've never met." Tomas, the waiter asked, all smiles- thinking he was being kind. Claudia shook her head secretly, and Tomas' eyes widened. "Or maybe not.." He then trailed, glancing at her empty ring finger and frowning.

"Your usual table?" He then asked Claudia, who nodded, her cheeks flushing.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea you come here often." George apologised, ignoring the 'Mrs Holmes.' He just prayed that she wasn't actually married and it was just a miscommunication.

"Don't worry about it. It's a lovely place. Good choice." Claudia grinned, taking her seat and trying not to blush once more and George pushed the chair in for her.

"So, is your brother nice?" George asked, smirking. Claudia laughed, shaking her head at him.

"He's the best." She grinned. She was glad he'd skipped over the marriage thing.

"I'm glad you got in touch." George then said, properly looking at her. And that was what Claudia _didn't_ want. She simply smiled and began looking through the menu. "I mean it," He added. "You look beautiful, by the way." He then said, picking his own menu up and browsing.

"Oh, thank you." Claudia smiled. She had to admit, it was quite a nice feeling to be properly looked at. But she missed playing the game they always played. The 'you guess the life story and I'll tell you how it's wrong' game. She smiled at the memory.

The date was going fine. Not amazingly well, but averagely okay. The conversation flowed, but so did the wine, and Claudia felt her inhibitions going, one drop at a time.

She excused herself to go to the bathroom to try and freshen up. This caught Tomas' eye, the flamboyant waiter who was incredibly nosy and had a deep love for Claudia and Sherlock's dysfunctional relationship. He found it incredibly romantic.

He cornered her on the way to the ladies. "So, where are the rings? I hope you're not cheating." He glared, picking her left hand up and staring.

"Excuse me, customer service?" She asked, taking her hand back and smiling. "We actually split up." She admitted, and Tomas frowned, looking incredibly disheartened by this fact.

"But I had it planned out. Ten children, five beautiful like you, and five intelligent like him." He grimaced, and Claudia had to stop herself from laughing.

"It just didn't work out." She explained. "Excuse me." She managed to push past her friend and finally get into the toilets, with thoughts of tiny Sherlock's crowding her mind.

They'd breached it, the dreaded ex conversation. She wasn't expecting it so early, to be honest.

He'd explained his virtually dead love life, he'd been without a girlfriend for almost six months. And even that girlfriend had been a bust, she ignored him and cheated on him. He was looking for someone nice, and Claudia felt like the most awful person for sort-of using him.

"I was with someone for almost a year, but he ended up not being that great a partner." She admitted.

He seemed all too happy to skip over the subject after that, much to Claude's delight.

By the time it turned eleven pm, Claudia was ready to go home. George had gotten a cab back to the small but very refined flat she'd bought, just near the Thames.

"Tonight was nice." Claudia found herself saying before she could stop herself. "So, I guess I'll see you next week?" She asked.

"Too right." He laughed. She smiled before leaning and kissing his cheek, and leaving the car. She felt his eyes on her as she walked to the front door and unlocked the door. As soon as it shut she allowed herself to act as she felt.

She took her heels off and practically threw them on the floor to her living room once she got there, and she slumped on the couch and stuck the TV on.

She woke up at 3 am with a head ache and the TV playing infomercials. She groaned and slapped the remote control, turning the screen off. She curled into a ball and fell back asleep.

#####

For Sherlock, his life had turned from an adrenaline rush of adventure, crime and affection from Claudia, to a bleak and dank life that involved daytime television and Chinese takeaways.

John wasn't much help, he was too absorbed in his wedding. In Sherlock's recently changed opinion, weddings and marriage were over-rated. They all ended in divorce, upset and arguments over who-gets-what-furniture. Not that that had happened with Claudia. She'd just turned up one day, taken her things and was gone from his life. She hadn't even texted him what was going on, or how she was doing, or asked him if he was okay. It was very much _not_ like Claudia, but perhaps that was what he'd driven her to.

It didn't matter, anyway. He didn't care about what she was doing, or whether she was happy. It was her decision to walk away, it had not been his.

And now he was going to have to see her and talk to her at John's wedding, acting all happy and nonchalant, probably with a new boyfriend. Sherlock knew that the new boyfriend would never dream of letting Buddy Holly go missing.

The only consolation of the ill-fated game he'd played with Claudia was that he knew never to trust anyone with his feelings, or his heart again. He'd played for it all, and lost everything. He'd given his job up because he couldn't focus properly, he'd been missing out on sleep, he'd been going days without eating or drinking anything. And he'd taken up smoking again, and that was, obviously, the physical consolation prize. John and Mrs Hudson hadn't even asked him once to stop, they just sent him pitying looks all the time. He'd snapped at them numerous times, not being able to handle people feeling sympathy for him. It was too human and weak.

If he was being blindly honest, he didn't even miss her, not really. He missed having someone understand him, of course. But he didn't miss having to prove himself all the time, or having to show affection, or having to share a bed. However, she did make the bed sheets smell good, and that was a positive thing, wasn't it? He thought so.

"I simply refuse. You know I've given the job up." Sherlock snapped down the phone as Lestrade begged him to return for one more job. He'd been on the phone with him for ten minutes, really pleading with him.

"Sherlock, I will personally consider you a God if you help me out. Please, just this once and I promise I'll leave you alone. I'll delete your number. Please mate. I'm begging you." Greg's voice came out sincerely on the other end.

"Once more, and that's it. And no publicizing it, I've officially retired now." Sherlock sighed, giving in like he had done the past three times.

"Brilliant. A painting has gone missing. One of Turner's. Falls of the Reichenbach. You know it?" He asked, audibly sighing with relief.

"Of course I know it." Sherlock replied contemptuously. "Give me a day." He said, and hung up the phone.

"John!" He called, already slipping his coat on and tying his scarf around his neck. The doctor poked his head from his bedroom. "The game is on." He said, and John grinned. He'd missed the excitement of the cases, he had to admit.

#####

Sherlock stood in front of the large group of people watching him, applauding and gazing in shock at the returned masterpiece behind him. He put on his fake smiles, despising Lestrade at that moment. He'd promised no publicity, yet there they were, the paparazzi and the newspapers, coming to report on him once again.

"Falls of the Reichenbach, Turner's masterpiece, thankfully recovered owing to the prodigious talent of Mr. Sherlock Holmes." The gallery director called, and the applaud came in tides again. "A small token of our gratitude." The director then said, handing Sherlock a square and gift-wrapped parcel.

Sherlock took the box and merely looked at it, deducing what it was from the size of the box and the weight of the contents. "Diamond cuff links. All my cuffs have buttons." Sherlock protested, looking questionably at John, who smiled through his frustration.

"He means thank you." He said to the director, who looked disappointed in Sherlock's reaction.

"Do I?" Sherlock then asked, glaring at John and handing him the box. He began to walk away but John pulled him back by his jacket.

"Hey!" John exclaimed. Sherlock sighed and stood by his best friend, allowing the press to take their much needed photographs. He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

#

Claudia checked John's blog every night, despite it not being updated in months. She logged on to her laptop and checked to see if it had been updated. She grinned when it had.

'Reichenbach.' Was it's title. She leant back and began to read, happy that Sherlock was once again doing what he loved.

#

By the time Claudia was meeting up with George, John, Sherlock and Carla, he and John had solved two cases in total. The Reichenbach, and finding a kidnapped man. He was slowly and surely getting back into the game after being absent for months. And that was good, wasn't it? He was moving on, and his concentration had obviously come back.

'_Sherlock Holmes was last night being hailed a hero yet again for masterminding the daring escape of the kidnapped man. Scotland Yard had to secretly bring in their secret weapon (in the form of Mr Holmes) yet again. The case has drawn a huge amount of attention as the nation became divided about the outcome of the kidnapping. Bankers are certainly not the nations sweethearts anymore, but Mr Holmes certainly seems to be. With talks of a previous lost-love, the brooding Mr Holmes has captured the hearts of women across the country, and everyone is left wondering who exactly had previously managed to domesticate (or not) the illusive Sherlock Holmes?'_

The news article on the matter hadn't made Claudia very happy, what with mentions of herself, but the photograph that went with it certainly made her smile. A very stiff looking Sherlock and an uncomfortably out of place John graced the front cover of every newspaper, and Claudia was finding it very amusing.

"_Back together with my family after my terrifying ordeal, and we only have one person to thank for my deliverance- Sherlock Holmes." The Father said with tears in his eyes._

_The public applauded, and the bankers young smiling son walked over to the stony Sherlock and handed him another gift. Once again, Sherlock managed to deduce what was in the box before actually opening it._

"_Tie pin. I don't wear ties." Sherlock dismissed the gift to John again._

"_Shush." John said through his teeth, trying not to slap the ungrateful man on his well defined cheekbones._

Claudia was dressed to impress, wearing a dark blue and vintage dress, with faint paisley detailing stitched on. She wore her hair loose and curly, with black heels and a faux-fur jacket over the top. (It was early January, after all).

George picked her up three minutes earlier than planned, showing his keenness, and the two of them set off to the French restaurant that John and Carla had picked out for their pre-wedding get together.

Their wedding was actually in only two months, and Claudia was both dreading and excited for it. She hoped seeing Sherlock at the meal that night would get rid of any awkwardness that would be present at the wedding and make it a more pleasant day for everyone.

John and Carla were already sat talking at the table by the time Claude and George got there. The waiter showed them to the table and sat them down, handing them both menu's before he went.

"Hello." Claudia greeted. "This is George. George, this is my brother John and my best friend Carla." She introduced, not really focussed on anything other than the fact that she was about to see Sherlock for the first time in three months. She was also trying not to be worried about the fact that she was excited to see him. Truth be told, she missed him dearly.

He arrived fifteen minutes late, claiming traffic to be awful. Claudia didn't believe him for a minute, and neither did John or Carla.

He sat opposite from Claudia, and hadn't even glanced at her since arriving.

"Hello Sherlock." Claudia said politely, trying not to smile too much as she saw his face. George seemed to notice the tension between them both and decided to introduce himself.

"Sherlock, I'm George. Claudia's... Friend." He finally smiled, offering his hand as he had with John. Sherlock ignored him.

"So, why exactly have you called us here?" Sherlock asked as he glanced through the menu, already knowing what he was going to have but not wanting to have to look at Claudia. As soon as he saw her, he knew he'd begin to miss her again.

"We just wanted to talk about the wedding." John lied, looking uncomfortable.

"Truth is, we wanted you both to sit down and talk again. Sorry George." Carla apologised, glancing at George who shrugged.

"Has there been a falling out?" He asked, shrugging nonchalantly. Sherlock smirked at him.

"I assume she's forgotten to mention the fact that we're married?" He asked him, finally glancing at Claudia and finding her face acted like a knife through the heart.

"We hadn't got to that yet, thank you Sherlock." Claudia hissed, looking apologetically at George, who looked more than uncomfortable.

"Just thought he'd like to know." Sherlock replied slowly, slapping his menu shut with a small and satisfied smile on his lips.

"I didn't know I was getting into this. I should probably go." George said, gesturing to get up.

"No." Claudia said, pushing him back down in his seat. "Don't worry about it. It was a convenience marriage, didn't mean much." Claudia explained, glaring at Sherlock who was openly glowering at her.

"All the same, if you have unresolved issues... Maybe you should call me tomorrow?" George suggested.

"Really, it was nothing. Please stay. We'll have a nice time." Claudia's smile managed to do it, and he stayed put but didn't look happy about it.

"Actually George, I think we'd all prefer it if you did leave." Sherlock spoke up, sipping on his glass of wine that he'd stolen from John.

Carla had to agree. She'd set the whole thing up so that the two of them could talk it out and hopefully get back together.

George nodded, also in agreement. "I really should go, Claude." He said. At the mention of Sherlock's old nickname for her, Sherlock looked away. "It's not a problem, I just don't think I'm wanted. I'll call you." He promised, kissing her cheek like she'd done the previous week and quickly getting out of there.

"Well, thanks for that Sherlock. Not only have you embarrassed me, but you may have ended my relationship." Claudia spat, drinking the last bit of her wine.

"Oh, come on. We can all see that the attraction went one way. He liked you, you were using him to get at me. I could tell that with my eyes closed." Sherlock snorted derisively.

"We didn't bring you here for you to argue. We brought you here to talk. So talk." John directed, finally having enough.

"What exactly do you propose we talk about?" Sherlock asked John, who shrugged.

"What happened between you two?" He offered. Claudia looked back to Sherlock.

"You were inconsiderate." She said.

"I believe so." He replied.

"Inattentive." She then said.

"Very nice." Came the reply.

"But I loved you a lot." Claudia then replied. John glanced at Carla and nodded, and the two of them quietly moved to a separate table, just as they'd planned.

"Then why did you leave?" Sherlock asked quietly, pouring them both a new glass of wine.

"Oh come on. Even you must know why I left." Claudia laughed dryly, and to that she got no reply. After a tense minute, she decided to speak again. "Well done with the Reichenbach. I read about it. And that banker. And I see you're wearing diamond cuff links, and a tie pin. Thank you presents maybe?" She asked, smirking slightly.

"Well done. Well observed. John insisted I wear them at least once. It's good for publicity apparently." He sighed, flicking one of the large diamonds by his wrists. "Not that I care about that. I gave it all up, you know." He said. She nodded. "Because of you." He then added.

Claudia looked embarrassed.

"Sorry." She whispered. He shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

"That woman over there." He said, nodding his head in the direction of a woman at a table on her own, picking at some bread in the complimentary bread basket you got before you ordered.

Claudia grinned and looked in the right direction.

"Date's not turned up, doesn't want to order but is starving hungry. Elementary." She told him. He nodded.

"That was an easy one." He admitted. "That man there?" He said, pointing straight at John. Claudia laughed, her eyes crinkling as she did so.

"He knows we're watching him. But he's very happy with his current company, and the two of them are going to get married soon." She told him.

"Wow. You got that completely right. It's almost as if you know him." He joked, smiling sarcastically to himself.

"Lestrade will be begging for my help now, instead of yours." She grinned, looking away when he met her eyes.

"He won't be begging for my help anymore. That was my last case. I made him delete every contact number of mine, and he promised to stay away." Sherlock explained.

"Please don't give it up." Claudia sighed, watching him intently.

"I can't focus properly, Claude. Something's happened to me." He admitted, looking incredibly pained as he looked right back at her.

She didn't quite know what to say to that, but she felt the undeniable ache of guilt in her stomach.

#####

**Please don't hate me too much for starting Reichenbach. I have a very nice plan for it though, as I've told you. It shall be both heart-warming and heart-breaking. Look forward to it!**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter. And no, they're not getting back together any time soon, I'm just trying to illustrate that even when they're arguing, they're undeniably cute, acting all jealous and trying to make the other feel jealous too ;-)**

**Please let me know what you think guys.**

**-Fay xox**


	27. Big Brother Duty

**Love, love will tear us apart, again. -Joy Division**

When the night had ended and the bill had been paid, Sherlock had all intentions to either walk her home (and officially find out where she'd moved to, not that he didn't know) or to pay for her cab. He didn't have to however.

George had waited for her in the bar in front of the restaurant, holding a bottle of wine and the keys to his car. Claudia forced herself to smile.

"What're you doing here?" She asked.

"I've come to take you home. I didn't spend any time with you, which is the utmost shame. Come on, get in." George said, his eyes switching to Sherlock's when Claudia smiled. "Bye bye." He mouthed to Sherlock, behind Claudia's back so she didn't hear or see.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"Claudia." He called, his voice velvety smooth and rich. "I don't want you going home with him. He's drunk and he wants to drive you home. You'll end up in a car crash, and I will personally take charge of the crime scene and prove him guilty." Sherlock said, smiling smugly at George, who glared at him.

"Sherlock, he's not drunk. He left before he could have anything to drink. Don't be silly, we'll be fine." She smiled, squeezing his hand as a goodbye and getting in to the car.

George winked at Sherlock and got in the drivers seat, and sped off without even glancing back at Sherlock.

Luckily, a cab was already waiting. Sherlock jumped in. "Follow that car." He ordered. "If you're subtle, I'll double your fare. If you lose him, you get nothing." Sherlock promised, leaning back and glancing anxiously out of the window.

George had driven them down back-streets, speeding up and down erratically, just proving to Sherlock that he was, indeed drunk and was trying to drive his wife home.

"Who're we chasing then? I take it it's a girl." The driver said, not taking his eyes from the car in front.

"Yes. She's important, and if he hurts her I will kill him. And cover up the evidence spectacularly well." Sherlock said, and the last part was nothing close to a lie.

About two minutes into the journey, the car pulled over. The passenger door opened and Claudia got out, shutting the door behind her. She then poked her head through the window, talked to George for about a minute and then began walking the way he'd just driven. Walking straight up to Sherlock's cab.

"Carry on down here." Sherlock said, but it was too late. Being the only car on the street, and a car that had stopped for a whole minute for no reason, Claudia knew who was in the car.

With the car still moving, she opened the door.

The cab driver screeched to a halt. "Ooh, mate. She's figured you out." The cab driver laughed. "Where to now?" He asked.

"Baker Street." Claudia said for them, slamming the door shut and getting her phone out. "He was an absolute arse." She explained. "Thank God you followed me."

"Never had that problem with me, did you?" Sherlock then asked quietly, and Claudia ignored him, looking instead at her phone. She could not go back to him again, she couldn't put up with being second best all the time and she couldn't put up with him. "What did he do?" Sherlock then asked when she didn't reply.

"Asked me if I minded doing it in a cheap motel." Claudia laughed dryly, and Sherlock gritted his teeth, his foot tapping on the floor.

When the cab pulled up outside of 221B Baker Street, Sherlock paid triple the fare the driver asked and entered the flat without waiting to see if Claudia was following or not.

"Thanks." Claude muttered, running and catching the door before it slammed shut.

John and Carla were already home, apparently. Their shoes had been kicked off at the door and they'd already gone to bed.

Claudia made herself comfortable on the couch.

"Get up." Sherlock said, snapping his fingers and motioning for her to move.

"No." She mumbled, feeling ready for sleep.

"Why did you come here?" Sherlock asked her, utterly confused. His socially inept mind just did not understand what she was doing. Hadn't they ended?

"I don't know. I didn't want to go home wit George, and I didn't want to go home to an empty flat." She explained, her eyes closed against one of the cushions on the couch.

"My bed is empty, go and sleep there. Just don't make it smell of you again, I only just got your smell from the flat." Sherlock sighed, collapsing in John's seat and watching Claudia get up and make her way to his bedroom slowly.

"What do I smell of? I hope you didn't just offend me." Claudia smirked, leaning on his door frame to wait for his answer.

He didn't.

#####

"Peter Ricoletti: Number one on Interpol's Most Wanted list since nineteen eighty two. But we got him; and there's one person we have to thank for giving us the decisive leads... With all his customary diplomacy and tact." Lestrade said to the crowd once more gathered at one of Sherlock's press conferences. Sherlock himself smiled very insincerely at Lestrade.

"Sarcasm." John noted to Sherlock, giving him the heads up.

"Yes." Sherlock said, already appreciating the lack of humour involved.

As the press applauded him, Lestrade walked over to the man himself and handed him a wrapped up gift, smiling with a hint of something in his eyes.

"We all chipped in." Lestrade winked. Sherlock tried to smile but he couldn't. With thoughts of Claudia's actions the previous week, he couldn't even fake smiles anymore.

Sherlock reluctantly tore open the paper, revealing a deerstalker hat. Anderson grinned manically in Sherlock's direction.

"Oh." Sherlock said, once again trying to look pleased with his gift.

"Put the hat on!" A reporter exclaimed.

"Yeah, Sherlock. Put it on." Lestrade grinned. Sherlock looked at the reporters with disdain.

John cleared his throat. "Just get it over with." He said through gritted teeth, his hands clamped in front of him.

Sherlock did as he was told and unhappily put the hat on his head. Sally clapped, Anderson laughed, and the paparazzi took countless photographs. Greg shifted uncomfortably under Sherlock's glare of hatred.

##

"'Boffin.' 'Boffin Sherlock Holmes.'" Sherlock quipped angrily, glancing at the newspapers with his name all over the cover. This was one of the reasons he'd retired. He hated people knowing who he was.

"Everybody gets one." John stated, smirking at his friend.

"One what?"

"Tabloid name." Carla grinned, looking up from her phone, from which she was avidly texting Claudia. "Claudia thinks your hat is funny." Carla then told Sherlock.

"I didn't want to know." Sherlock snapped.

"He's trying to blot out Claudia from his life now. What happened last week made him lose focus again, apparently." John shrugged, shaking his head at his friend and then his fiancé.

"What, she slept in your bed? That's it? That's what made you lose focus?" Carla frowned.

"She went off with one man, turned him down and came home with me, then proceeded to sleep in my bed. Why, if she hates me so much? I don't understand what she wants from me. Why can't she just leave me alone?" Sherlock asked her, pacing slightly.

"Sherlock, I do believe _you_ were the one trying to follow _her_ home. Which I thank you for, by the way. If you hadn't have been there, that creep could have followed her and hurt her. What he was saying was really awful." Carla said sincerely, clamping a hand over his which he immediately wriggled out out.

"Why always the hat photograph?" Sherlock changed the subject and punched his deerstalker hat angrily. "What sort of hat is it anyway?" He asked. "Is it a cap? Why has it got two fronts?"

"It's a deerstalker." Carla helpfully advised.

"You stalk a deer with a hat? What are you gonna do- throw it?" He asked, and Carla snorted. "Some sort of death frisbee?" He pondered.

"Okay, this is too much. We need to be more careful." John said.

"It's got flaps. Ear flaps. It's an ear hat, John." Sherlock said, skimming the pointless thing across the room to John, who caught it. "What do you mean, more careful?" The detective then asked.

"I mean this isn't a deerstalker now; it's a Sherlock Holmes hat. I mean, one minute you're going into retirement, the next you're solving more cases then ever because you've gotten your name known. You're not exactly a private detective anymore. You're this far from famous." John said, gesturing with his finger and thumb.

"Oh, it'll pass." Sherlock shrugged. He slumped into his arm chair and steepled his fingers in front of his face.

"It'd better pass. I'm sick of shoving past press every morning just to get in the bloody flat." Carla complained, putting her phone down.

"You know, the press will turn, Sherlock. They always turn, and they'll turn on you." John claimed. Sherlock peered closely at John.

"It really bothers you." He smirked.

"What?" John asked.

"What people say." Sherlock then claimed.

"Yes." John agreed.

"About me? I don't understand, why would it upset you?" He then asked, frowning slightly. John didn't answer for a minute.

"Just try to keep a low profile. Find yourself a little case this week. Stay out of the news." John ordered.

"I know you're not listening Sherlock, and I know you don't want to hear this, but Claude's worried about you too. She admitted it yesterday." Carla explained.

"What?" Sherlock asked, his head snapping to the left so he could meet Carla's eyes.

"She's worried the fame will get to your head and you'll become someone you're not." Carla explained, and John nodded. "Just remember who you were, fame isn't everything."

"I'd rather have not known what she thinks, thank you." Sherlock faked a smile, and went into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.

##

"Oh, just get in the car." Anthea snapped as Claudia crossed her arms and refused to get into the black jaguar that had pulled up outside of her flat as soon as she left it.

"I've had a bad day, my day will probably only get worse. If Mycroft wants to talk to me, he can come and find me himself." Claudia snapped, beginning to walk down the street to get some coffee, considering the fact that she was all out back home.

"Oh, but I am here, my dear sister-in-law." Mycroft's voice came from the front passenger seat, and Claudia frowned. Mycroft never picked anyone up himself, he was always too busy.

"Mycroft?" Claudia asked, peeking through the cracked open window to find the man sat there, in all his glory, with his umbrella.

"Get in the car, Claudia." Mycroft sighed, eyes forward, not even glancing at her.

"I need coffee." Claudia refuted desperately, sighing dramatically.

Mycroft smiled and held up a coffee cup. He knew what she wanted. Claudia smiled warmly and got in the car, ignoring Anthea as if she wasn't there at all.

"If you're trying to make me go back to Sherlock, you're wasting your time." Claudia said, snatching the cup from Mycroft.

"Oh, I know. I'm just asking you to leave him alone." Mycroft smiled, not at all nastily.

"What?" Claudia asked.

"Your little show that you put on the other day hurt my brother, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't do things like that to him if you have no intention of moving back in and retaining your relationship. Even Sherlock has been known to get his hopes up." Mycroft said.

"I didn't do anything." Claudia said.

"Sherlock is not ordinary, you should know that by now. Just the fact that you paid him any attention meant a great deal to him, so perhaps you should think of the implications of your actions from now on. Something big is coming, Claudia. I can feel it, and that man needs all the concentration he can get. Now, please. I'm begging you, stay away from my brother." Mycroft ordered.

Claudia looked shocked, and hurt. But she nodded, and agreed.

"But if I'm with my brother and he happens to walk in, that's not my fault. And I'll have to converse with him at the wedding, you do understand that don't you?" Claudia asked.

"Of course I do. I'm not an imbecile. Oh, I had hoped you'd be able to work it out, you were a very nice couple you know? Well, I suppose I shall never know what it's like to have a nephew or niece." Mycroft quipped.

"He could meet someone else." Claudia insisted. Anthea snorted whilst scrolling through her phone, and both Mycroft and Claudia glared at her.

"You were the first woman, save Molly Hooper, who ever showed Sherlock romantic affection. I doubt it will happen again, Claudia." Mycroft sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She shrugged, not knowing what else to say. "Well, Claudia. It has been nice to catch up again. I shall look forward to the wedding." Mycroft said as they pulled up back outside her house, after doing a lap around the block.

"Bye Mycroft." Claudia said, leaving the car and clutching her coffee to her chest, feeling like she had a lot to ponder after what Mycroft had told her.

Had she hurt Sherlock more than she thought she had by running away?

##

**Well, we all know the answer to that is YES. If you're thinking Claudia's being selfish and annoying, then you'd be right. But in my defence, she's trying not to go back to Sherlock before he hurts her again, so by being selfish she's staying away from him. That's my reasoning anyway.**

**Hope you enjoyed. The wedding will be soon, as will Moriarty's series of crimes, if you're keeping up with the Reichenbach storyline also. **

**Review my lovelies!**

**-Fay xox**


	28. Moriarty's Return

_**There's no one, no one that knows me quite like you - Wolf Alice**_

Claudia had to admit, life without Sherlock wasn't as brilliant as she'd thought it was going to be. First of all, she had no output for any intellectual thoughts she was having, as the average person didn't want to listen to her rambling for ten minutes without stopping. Sherlock hadn't minded, in fact, he'd quite enjoyed listening to how her mind worked, despite how much he may have criticised her thinking afterwards.

Secondly, she'd enjoyed living with other people, not only her husband but her brother too. She'd liked the company, she'd enjoyed being able to talk to people and converse, and she'd enjoyed having that comfort there if she needed it. All she had to go home to now was Buddy Holly, and however much adorable that cat was, Buddy just didn't live up to human contact levels.

She had to admit, she even liked it when she and Sherlock got into arguments. He'd usually feel guilty ten minutes later and apologise, and they'd usually end up having an incredibly nice rest of the day. The only people she could argue with now were her nosy neighbours who'd somehow found out she knew Sherlock Holmes and were constantly asking her questions about him.

Perhaps her loneliness or need to find comfort due to her lack of a job and lack of time to do any writing for her novel, she had taken to the habit of going to the nearest bar, getting blindly drunk and stumbling home only to fall asleep and do the same in a couple of days. She'd get chatted up, and she'd tell them she was married and watch them flock away. Perhaps this wasn't allowing herself to be comforted but she felt sick even listening to their awful chat up lines and disturbing comments.

On one particularly depressing night, in which she'd felt so alone that she'd been talking to the bartender for three hours, he'd called her a cab. "You're too wasted to walk home, I don't trust London at night. Where do you want it for?" He asked, smiling as he picked his phone up.

Claudia pondered for a moment. Where did she want to go? Home? Cold, lonely, desolate home? Or the warming, comforting and soothing solace of Baker Street?

"221B Baker Street." Claudia found herself mumbling before her brain could properly catch up with her mouth.

She longed for the fireplace, for the low hum of the television as she dozed off, for the warmness and dustiness of 221B, for the smell of mahogany and cherry wood, and the feeling of being loved. That was what she wanted.

"Darling?" The man behind the bar asked gently, nudging the dozing Claudia awake. She jolted upright.

"What?" She asked.

"Your cab's here." He told her.

She nodded and waved goodbye as she trudged through the door and into the brisk and cool night air. She got into the cab.

"221B Baker Street." She said once again, not yet having changed her mind.

It took ten minutes to drive there, with Claudia trying not to fall asleep in the back. She managed to stay awake, luckily.

She paid the fare and got out, blindly wandering to the front door and smacking her hand against it to ensure the door was actually answered.

She heard footsteps rushing downstairs and a key unlocking the door.

"What do you want." It was more of a statement than a question. Claudia didn't know what to reply. What did she want? She just didn't know. She shrugged instead. "Claudia, go home." Sherlock said rather harshly, going to shut the door.

But something about her expression made him keep it open, and his eyes lingered on her face for a moment. Instead of shutting the door, he opened it slightly more so the girl could squeeze through.

She did so, passing him and going upstairs, collapsing on the couch.

"I hope you don't plan on making this a nightly ordeal." Sherlock snapped, watching as she tried to get comfy. "Oh, just use my bed again." He told her, annoyed that she hadn't spoken to him yet.

She tried to stand up from the couch but actually ended up just tipping from the edge and falling on the floor. She seemed to have fallen asleep there and then, and Sherlock couldn't be bothered to

wake her up and move her, so he left her there.

He perched himself on the corner of the couch, and watched her sleeping. Her curls framed her face and her eyelashes looked incredibly long as they rested on her face, fluttering slightly as she dozed off.

He must have been watching for about an hour before she started talking. Sherlock couldn't recall her ever talking in her sleep before, but he supposed that she was drunk- her inhibitions had gone.

Most of it was indecipherable, but the odd word he could pick out. 'Sherlock' was a word that she said the most.

He soon got bored of her midnight ramblings, finding the utter nonsense she was spouting to be the opposite of stimulating. He left her to it and went to walk to his bedroom, sending the sleeping Claudia one last glance.

"Don't leave." Claudia mumbled, her face unattractively pushed against the floor, squashing one side and making her voice even more obscured.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"You heard me." She then said, cracking one eye open and watching him.

"I was asking for an explanation." Sherlock replied, "Not a statement."

"The reason I came here was so I wasn't alone." Claudia then said, her words stumbling together almost incomprehensibly.

"Your solitude is your own fault. I didn't make you leave." Sherlock reasoned, doing as he was told and sitting back in his seat.

"You pushed me to the edge." Claudia explained. "You _are_ the reason I'm alone."

Sherlock shrugged, tying his silk dressing gown tighter to his skinny frame. "That may be correct, but you knew what you were getting yourself into." Sherlock then reminded her, and both her eyes opened to watch him. She knew he was right, but she couldn't admit it.

"No I didn't. I thought you'd change." She lied.

"Liar." Sherlock raised his voice slightly and she looked away. "The thought of changing me makes you want to cry. You knew I wouldn't change, and it's more than that, you didn't _want_ me to change."

"Stop it." Claudia said, her voice harsh, even and ultimately sober.

"Claudia, what are you doing? What are you doing in my flat, on my floor, acting like it's the most normal thing in the world? _This_ isn't right. If you don't want to be with me, then leave me alone." Sherlock was close to shouting now, and Claudia simply turned her head to the fireplace instead of his legs.

"You just can't stand the fact that you can't live without me. You love me, Claudia. You just don't want to. You hate the fact that you walked away and now you're running back. You hate the fact that you're here right now, drunk, sleeping on my floor. You hate the fact that you can't stop thinking about me, even when you don't want to, _even when you're having sex with a man you've known for two weeks. _The thing is Claudia, the reason you can't stop thinking about me is because you were wrong and we **are** perfect for each other." With every sentence he spoke, his voice got louder and deeper, and by the end of his speech he was crouched down on the floor, looking right at her.

##

**Later**

Claudia was pretending to be asleep, in Sherlock's bed as can be assumed, immediately regretting what had happened after he make those accusations about her. Yes, she had succumbed. But that was it, no more Sherlock. She was turning Sherlock-vegan.

Sherlock, meanwhile, knew quite well that Claudia was pretending to be asleep but he decided to humour her, knowing that she must feel uncomfortable in the... Minimal clothing that she was then wearing and the fact that he'd quite effectively just proved her wrong. Very wrong.

He sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, and put his boxers on. He then left her to it, leaving his bedroom for the solace of the living room. He picked up his violin, an instrument he'd harshly abandoned in the absence of Claudia, not finding the inspiration to pick up the beloved thing and play her for more than two minutes without feeling the oncoming sense of ennui.

It wasn't close to his usual soft melody, but instead it was more of an absent plucking of strings. But he managed to accomplish two things in this melancholy violin playing. The first was getting the inspiration to actually pick it up, which was something new and a milestone in his official plan of getting over Claudia. The second was the fact that the comforting and familiar sounds of the instrument lulled Claudia herself off into a deep, drunken sleep full of muttering and murmurs.

When Sherlock was certain she was asleep, he went into the kitchen and poured her a glass of water, complete with pain killers. He then put them next to her in his bedroom, glad that there was at least someone and something she could wake up to in the morning other than a dreadful hang-over.

Despite the fact that they'd had sex not twenty minutes before, Sherlock couldn't feel further away from the girl. It hadn't been the same. It was angry and humiliating, and he was very aware that she had left him. She had chosen to leave him when she knew it would kill him. When she knew it would kill _her. _

Perhaps he'd never think or look at her in the same way again.

##

**Morning**

Claudia's hand flailed out, knocking something over. The bang of the object falling on the floor startled her, and she sat up in bed, very aware that it was Sherlock's bed she'd woken up in, wearing nothing more than her underwear. She prayed to God nothing had happened the previous night.

Her head was pounding, and in her disorientated state she looked at the floor to see what she had knocked over. An ash-tray. Typical. So he'd started smoking again, then.

She sat back into the soft sheets and looked around, noticing a glass of water and pain killers by her side, she took them greedily and practically lapped the water from the glass.

She knew she had to leave. She groaned and sat up, slowly putting on her clothes from last night, noticing how much they smelt of alcohol. She looked in the small mirror by Sherlock's wardrobe, wiping under her eyes to get rid of the panda-eyed effect of smudged mascara and eye-liner. She also tamed her hair a bit, noticing how tangled and knotted it was. Truth be told, she looked how she felt.

She quietly left the bedroom, hoping to avoid Sherlock. Of course she couldn't, she'd actually walked right in on a conversation between the detective himself and her brother.

"It's your phone." John was saying, towel drying his wet hair with his bath robe on. He hadn't even noticed Claudia's presence.

"Mm. Keeps doing that." Sherlock agreed. Claudia frowned when she noticed a body hanging from the ceiling, swaying slightly.

"So, did you just talk to him for a really long time?" Claudia asked, walking into the living room, trying not to look ashamed when John saw her. His mouth opened slightly, looking like a fish out of water.

"Claudia." He said, sounding shocked. "What's going on?" He asked. Her grimace said it all. He didn't want to know.

Sherlock glanced up at the body she was referring to, shaking his head. It was only a mannequin.

"Oh. Henry Fishgard never committed suicide." He said, slamming the heavy and dusty book he'd been reading on the table with impatience. A flurry of dust billowed into the air, glittering about in the warm air of 221B Baker Street. "Bow Street Runners, missed everything." Sherlock then said.

"Pressing case, is it?" John asked.

"They're all pressing 'til they're solved." Sherlock reasoned, throwing something in Claudia's direction. She caught it and found her phone.

"You've been looking through my phone?" She demanded, noticing that her password had been turned off. He shrugged. "That's not right, Sherlock. You can't just look through my phone, that's weird." She told him, very close to shouting or crying, or something inbetween. Or perhaps even both.

Sherlock's phone went off once more. "I'll get it, shall I?" John asked, annoyed. He grabbed the phone and checked the messages as Sherlock began to walk to his microscope. John's face filled with horror.

"John, what is it?" Claudia asked, concerned.

"Here." John said, quickly rushing to Sherlock and trying to hand him the phone.

"Not now." Sherlock snapped.

"He's back." John said. Both Sherlock and Claudia stared at John, knowing exactly who John was referring to. Moriarty.

Sherlock took the phone and read the message.

_Come and play. Tell your play-things to come. I'd **love** to see Claudia now she's single._

_Tower Hill._

_Jim Moriarty x_

Sherlock's eyes widened and he gazed into the distance. Claudia snatched the phone from him and her eyes quickly scanned the message.

"Oh, shit." She hissed, wanting to smash the phone up and pretend the message never happened.

##

**Just a little filler type thing there. Well actually, quite a lot happened really. You know how I hate making things too crude in my writing, hence the lack of gritty detail of Clock/Shlaudia sex. You get the picture, anyway.**

**And from now on, we're in the action! Of course, we have John's wedding to go, and that's the only hint you're getting of what's to come.**

**Please let me know what you think, seriously. It's pure motivation, the more comments I get, the quicker I will update. Promise!**

**-Fay xox**


	29. Old Bailey l

"Absolutely not. I'm not having you ruining everything." Sherlock snapped whilst he hurriedly gathered his coat and scarf.

"I have to agree with him, Claude. It's too dangerous for you to come." John said, also putting his jacket on.

"You allowed me to live with him for weeks. Don't give me that. I'm coming." Claudia insisted, slipping out of Sherlock's clothes and into the ones she'd been wearing the previous night.

##

Jim was wearing a coy smile as he graciously allowed Lestrade and Donovan to bundle him into the police car, pushing his head down so he didn't hit in on the way. He'd broken in to three of the most red alert, high security places in the world.

And he'd done it without Sherlock even knowing a thing.

And that.

That felt good.

##

When Sherlock, John and Claudia arrived at the White Tower, where the glass cabinet that contained the Crown Jewels was kept, Lestrade was anxiously waiting their arrival. He'd been pacing up and down, it was evident to Sherlock that he was incredibly worried. And rightly so.

As soon as they walked in to the Tower, Lestrade began playing them CCTV footage of what exactly Moriarty had done.

They watched as he stuck some gum on the class cabinet. He then pushed something into the gum, but the footage wasn't clear enough to establish what exactly it was.

"That glass is tougher than anything." Lestrade insisted.

"Not tougher than crystallised carbon. He used a diamond." Sherlock explained patiently.

Greg rewound the tape and they watched it backwards. It played the smashed glass returning to its rightful place, and as Moriarty began carving into the glass before he smashed it.

The message he'd written was clear.

The message read GET SHERLOCK.

With an apt smiley face in the 'O.'

John stared at Sherlock but the detectives eyes were fixed on the screen.

##

**'Questions are being asked in parliament as to how the Tower of London, Pentonville Prison and the Bank of England were all broken into at the same time by the same man- Jim Moriarty.**

**There are unconfirmed reports that Scotland Yard's favourite sleuth Mr Sherlock Holmes has been called in to help the team piece together the most audacious crime.'**

Claudia read from the newspaper, shaking her head and briefly closing her eyes as she did so.

The previous day had seen a weary Claudia leaving 221B Baker Street after spending the day with Sherlock, John and the Scotland Yard lot. She'd had no goodbye from Sherlock, just an undignified grunt as he watched the footage once more. It seems the drunk sex they'd had meant absolutely nothing to him. Then again, it meant absolutely nothing to her. Right?

Right.

She turned on the television in her lonely flat. "Crown jewel thief is to be tried at the Old Bailey and Sherlock Holmes is named as a witness for the prosecution. Master criminal Moriarty taunted Holmes with his gratified GET SHERLOCK at the scene of the crime. The crime is attracting huge attention internationally too. Boffin Holmes, at the time accompanied by Doctor John Watson and apparent ex-wife Claudia Watson, refused to comment."

She was on the news. A paparazzi video of her, John and Sherlock stepping out from Scotland Yard was playing, and she quickly turned the TV off with a deep sigh.

##

Claudia wanted to go to the court case. She wanted to see him one last time before he was put away in prison for life. Of course, that only meant being civil to Sherlock for one day and that was it. Technically, the only other time she'd ever have to see him after that was John's wedding, which was only in a few days after the court case itself.

In seven days, she would be completely free of Sherlock Holmes.

She was in the living room of 221B, along with Carla, John and Sherlock. Carla was tying John's tie for him, Sherlock was buttoning his jacket up and Claudia was pinning a few stray curls to her head.

"Ready?" John asked everyone.

"Yes." Sherlock said, standing up and rushing downstairs already. He was eager.

It made Claudia smile, and she followed him too. They both stood awkwardly at the bottom of the steps, waiting for the other two before opening the door and facing the cameras that would inevitably be there.

"Everything will be okay, won't it?" Claudia whispered.

"I hope so." Sherlock whispered back, just as the other two began walking downstairs.

Bracing herself, Claudia opened the door and was immediately blinded by the flash of cameras. Sherlock began clearing a path to the waiting police car, his hand on Claudia's wrist to guide her through the clearance of journalists he was creating. He let her get in the car first.

He got in next, knowing John could fend for himself.

John knew he just wanted to sit next to Claudia. He missed her, in an odd way. It had been almost three weeks since the night they'd spent together, which meant it had been three weeks since he last uttered her name. It was almost as if he was trying to forget about her.

The car pulled away as soon as they were all in, John sitting in the front seat and Carla next to Sherlock.

"Remember..." John began.

"Yes." Sherlock said instantly, frustrated.

"Remember..." John said more firmly.

"Yes." Sherlock snapped, even more frustrated. Claudia smirked.

"Remember what they told you. Don't try to be clever." John said quietly, trying to control his annoyance.

"No." Sherlock said, talking over him completely.

"And please, just keep it simple and brief." Claudia added. Sherlock glimpsed a look at her.

"God forbid the star witness at the trial should come across as intelligent." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Intelligent, fine. Let's give 'smart arse' a wide berth." John growled, and Carla giggled.

A long pause ensued.

"I'll just be myself." Sherlock finally said.

"Are you even listening to a word we're saying?!" Claudia exclaimed.

Sherlock glared at her, irritated.

##

Claudia was in the toilets at the Old Bailey, about to turn and leave when she came face to face with a ginger woman, wearing a deer stalker cap and a sharp suit.

"You're her." She claimed, excitedly.

"Who?" Claudia asked, bemused.

"Claudia Holmes, nee. Watson. The wife." The woman smiled, almost menacingly, bearing her teeth.

"Ex-wife." Claudia corrected uncomfortably, going to move to the side to walk past her. The woman moved with her.

"What's he like then, really? Is he that clever all the time? I think he's brilliant." The woman grinned once more.

Claudia smirked. "No you don't. For a starters, that cap is brand new. The tag is still showing. You've just bought it to look like a fan. Secondly, there is a pencil in your right hand and a pad in your left. You're not asking out of fanatical interest, you're quite obviously a journalist trying to scrabble what information you can from me. What's your name?" She asked the woman, who'd taken the cap off and sighed.

"Kitty. Kitty Riley." She replied.

"Well, Kitty Kitty Riley. You will not get an article from me, nor a comment, nor any derogatory quip about Sherlock. Go and leech over someone who is stupid enough to trust you. You repel me." Claudia said, grinning nastily before gently pushing the woman out the way and leaving.

When she emerged, Sherlock was waiting, arms crossed in front of him as he pretended not to have heard everthing that she'd just said. He felt an immense sense of pride when listening to her.

Was he still entitled to feel that pride if they were no longer man and wife?

It was a mere half an hour until Kitty Riley pounced on Sherlock too.

He heard her enter the bathroom before he saw her. Lighter footsteps than a man, the prowling footsteps of a female journalist instead.

"I know you're a journalist. Don't bother." Sherlock said, without turning around from drying his hands. Kitty rolled her eyes and took the deer stalker off with a resigned sigh.

"There's all sorts of gossip in the press about you. Sooner or later you're gonna need someone on your side..." Kitty hinted, holding out her business card and setting it in his breast pocket.

"And you think you're the woman for the job, do you?" Sherlock asked sarcastically, smirking.

"I'm smart and you can trust me. Totally." She said unconvincingly.

"Smart, okay: Investigative journalist. Good. Well, look at me and tell me what you see." Sherlock said, stepping back and gesturing for her to do so. She looked blankly at him.

"If you're that skilful, you don't need an interview. You can just read what you need." Sherlock said, taunting her. "No? Okay. My turn." He said, and began pacing around her. "I look at you and I see someone who's still waiting for their first big scoop so that their editor will notice them. You're wearing an expensive skirt but it's been re-hemmed twice; only posh skirt you've got. And your nails: you can't afford to do them that often. I see someone who's hungry. I don't see smart, and I definitely don't see trustworthy, considering the fact you've tried to snatch a comment from both my wife and I. But I'll give you a quote if you want. Three little words." He said, reaching down and taking her Dictaphone from her pocket. He stepped toward her, staring right into her eyes. Teasing her.

"You. Repel. Me." He whispered, slowly, before slipping it back into her pocket and leaving her to her maudlin thoughts.

##

Sherlock stood in the witness box, desperately not wanting to look up to find Claudia staring hopefully at him. But then again, perhaps her hope would inspire him to get the criminal locked away for life.

Jim was sat in the box opposite him, chewing gum nonchalantly. What chilled Sherlock was the fact that Moriarty's eyes were directly on Claudia.

"A consulting criminal." The prosecuting barrister said.

"Yes." Sherlock replied.

"Your words. Can you expand on that answer?" The woman asked.

"James Moriarty is for hire." Sherlock explained.

"A tradesman?"

"Yes."

"But not the sort who'd fix your heating?" The barrister asked, earning a titter from the jury.

"No. The sort who'd plant a bomb or stage an assassination, but I'm sure he'd make a pretty decent job of your boiler." Sherlock dead-panned. His eyes flickered to Claudia to find her smile gently.

"Would you describe him as..." She urged.

"Leading." Sherlock interrupting. Claude's smile fell.

"What?" She asked.

"Can't do that. You're leading the witness." Sherlock said, and Claudia shook her head. Sherlock nudged his head toward the opposing barrister. "He'll object and the judge will uphold." Sherlock reasoned. The judge looked annoyed.

"Mr Holmes." He snapped. It was the sixth time he'd said that. Claudia had been counting.

"Ask me how. How would I describe him? What opinion have I formed of him? Do they not teach you this?" Sherlock asked, irritated.

"Mr Holmes, we're fine without your help." The judge assured him. Claudia grinned, but tried to cover it up when she saw Sherlock look at her.

"How would you describe this man? His character?" The barrister corrected.

"First mistake." Sherlock said, raising his eyes. "James Moriarty isn't a man at all. He's a spider. A spider at the centre of the web. A criminal web with a thousand threads and he knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances." Sherlock explained.

Jim nodded his head in agreement.

"And how long..." The barrister began. Sherlock immediately looked annoyed.

"No, no. Don't do that. That's really not a good question." Sherlock insisted.

"Mr Holmes." The judge shouted. Seven times.

"How long have I known him? Not really your best line of enquiry. We met twice, five minutes in total. I pulled a gun, he tried to blow me up. I felt we had a special something." He said sarcastically. "He also kidnapped and poisoned Claudia Holm- Watson." He said, and Jim winked directly at Claudia, making her heart skip a beat. John placed a hand over hers, and Carla did the same.

"Miss Sorrel, are you seriously claiming this man is an expert, after knowing the accused for five minutes?" The judge demanded.

"Two minutes would have made me an expert." Sherlock said knowingly. "Five was ample."

"Mr Holmes, that's a matter for the jury." The judge claimed.

"Oh, really?" Sherlock asked, turning his gaze to the jury. Both John and Claudia looked exasperated. They couldn't intervene to stop what he was about to do.

"One librarian, two teachers, two high pressured jobs, probably the City." Sherlock began, before focussing on one woman in particular. "The foreman's a medical secretary, trained abroad judging by her shorthand." He said.

"Mr Holmes!" The judge looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Eight times.

"Seven are married and two are having an affair- with each other, it would seem! Oh, and they've just had tea and biscuits." Sherlock smiled, turning back to the judge. "Would you like to know who ate the wafer?" He asked.

"Mr Holmes. You've been called here to answer Miss Sorrel's questions, not to give us a display of your intellectual prowess." The judge argued.

Sherlock smiled a little at that compliment, earning a roll of the eyes from John.

"Keep your answers brief and to the point." The judge asked. "Do you think you could survive for just a few minutes without showing off?" He then asked.

Sherlock paused. He opened his mouth.

##

"You're a bloody idiot, do you know that?" John demanded, watching angrily as Sherlock signed the release form. He'd been put in a cell. "What did I say? Don't get clever!" He exclaimed.

"I can't just turn it on and off like a tap." Sherlock claimed.

Sherlock picked his belongings up. "Well?" Sherlock then asked.

"Well what?" John questioned.

"You were there for the whole thing, up in the gallery, all three of you. Start to finish." Sherlock, glancing at John, Claudia and Carla.

"Like you said it would be. He sat on his backside, never even stirred. Except when he winked at Claudia. His eyes never left her." John explained. Sherlock paused for a second.

He'd been looking at her a lot too. Did Claudia view Sherlock now the way she viewed Moriarty? A danger? An annoyance? A threat? She knew they were both similar. She knew they were both sociopaths. Was Sherlock an annoyance to her that wouldn't go away?

"Moriarty's not mounting any defence." Sherlock said dully after a while. Whereas before he looked excited, with a twinkle in his eye, he now looked bored and even saddened. And obviously, it was due to what he'd just thought about Claude.

##

John and Carla had gone in a separate cab, on account of the fact that they were going to Carla's flat instead of 221B.

Considering the fact that Claude had left a few things at Baker Street, it left her with no choice but to share a cab with the annoyed detective. They both got in the cab in total silence.

"You certainly made an impression." She began, hopelessly trying to spark a conversation.

"Don't start." Sherlock said aggressively, getting his phone out.

"I wasn't. I thought you were good." Claudia refuted angrily.

Sherlock grunted for a reply.

"Can we not even have a civil conversation anymore?" She asked. "We spilt on amiable terms, Sherlock." She then insisted.

"No we didn't." He shot back. "We didn't even discuss it. You just left me, Claudia. And you just keep skipping back into my life like it's okay. It's like your taunting me, laughing because I can't have you or talk to you anymore. And then you just leave again, and it's like another slap in the face. Why are you even at the trial? To put me off? That's what you're doing. You're distracting me." Sherlock ranted, not once looking in her direction.

"Well, I'm sorry for distracting you. I wanted to support you, actually. But never mind, apparently it's nothing to do with me." She snapped.

"It's not." Sherlock agreed.

"Fine." Claudia shrugged.

"Fine." Sherlock replied.

As soon as the cab stopped in some traffic, Claudia had opened the door and got out, slamming it shut behind her. Sherlock scooted over and opened the window.

"Where are you going? That isn't the way to Baker Street!" He exclaimed, but she ignored him, walking off into the back streets of London. Sherlock sighed. He got his wallet out and handed the driver some money.

"Should cover your drive back." He said, before following her out. He ran to catch up with her, and she knew he was there.

They walked in silence, both of them right next to each other.

"I don't have feelings for you anymore." She claimed quietly.

"Really?" He asked, almost smirking.

"Really." She insisted.

"You don't miss me then?" He asked, openly smiling now.

"No." She said.

"You turned up to the trial to purely see Moriarty?" He then questioned.

"Yes." She lied.

"And you don't ever regret walking out on me?" He grinned.

"No. I'm happier now." She said, sounding incredibly unconvincing.

"Claudia." Sherlock said, his voice deep and rich like velvet. He'd stopped walking. She walked for a few more steps before stopping and looking at him. "If I told you right now that I adore you, and needed you to stay with me, what would you do?" He asked, his smile gone.

She didn't reply.

"Exactly." He claimed. "You'd tell me the same thing. I can read you like a book. I can read you better than anybody. Because I know you don't hate me, not really." His smile came back. "Claude, it's just you and me against the rest of the world. Don't leave me now, girl." He said, and his hand was held out, inviting her toward him.

Just as it began to start chucking it down raining.

She hesitantly put her hand in his. Quicker than she'd thought he would, he darted his arm in, pulling her with him. He took one arm out of his thick coat and held it up so she could get in too, huddling from the rain.

She had to admit, she felt absolutely safe pressed against him like that. He was warm and smelt familiar, he smelt of how she felt when she was blissfully happy.

Her hair was getting wet and sticking to her face, and they quickly walked back to the cab that had not moved since getting stuck in traffic.

They both got in and the driver looked irritated at them both.

"You'd be quicker walking home. There's been an accident or something." The driver explained, pointing to the radio. He'd heard it on the news.

"Let's walk then."

Ten minutes later and Sherlock's numb fingers had unlocked the door, and the two of them had bolted up the stairs. Both were smiling despite the cold, despite the fact that their hair was dripping wet and they couldn't feel their feet.

Silently they both did their own thing. Claudia turned the fire on, Sherlock got some towels from the bathroom. He then went and got some spare clothes for him and a t-shirt and shorts for Claudia. They dressed quietly, occasionally glancing at the other when they thought they weren't looking.

Claudia, as Sherlock was making two cups of tea, pushed the couch closer to the fire and turned the TV on. She sat down, tucking her feet under herself and playing with her damp hair. When Sherlock returned he joined her on the couch, for once not complaining about what was on TV and just being content with his company. He put his arm around her shoulder and the two felt incredibly warm, inside and out.

##

**Sorry, but this bliss isn't going to last for long. Maybe I'm feeling sentimental and wanted to write some old school Shlaudia. There you go. Sorry it's been a while, but college is full on. Really full on. With work and college, I only really get Wednesday's off (hence why I'll more often update on a Wednesday.)**

**Bear with me, people. It's almost half-term, and I'll have a week to write some Shlaudia beauty.**

**A mixture of John's wedding and the end of Moriarty's trial in the next chapter. Also, Claudia's going to tell Sherlock to... Well, that would spoil it, wouldn't it? ;)**

**Send me your thoughts, you're all my little muses. You keep those reviews coming and I'll TRY to keep my chapters coming. **

**-Fay xox**

**PS- Don't you love Sherlock being all cocky with Claudia? I'd LOVE to see a scene like that. He's so sassy.**

**PPS- Just a casual reminder that for series 3, Benedict has had to get a whole new wardrobe due to the fact that's he's too muscular for his old clothes. Excuse me while I hyperventilate.**


End file.
